


Body Work

by prairiecrow



Series: Terra Incognita [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Knight Rider (1982), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Androids, Artificial Intelligence, Breaking the Law, Calculus, Car Chases, Celebrity Life, Dom/sub Play, Drunk Tony Stark, Emotional Monogamy, Engineering, F/M, Face-Fucking, Falling In Love, Fascination, First Dance, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Imprinting, Jared Leto - Freeform, Life Model Decoys, Light BDSM, Love, Love Triangles, M/M, Man Out of Time, Mirror Sex, Open Relationship, Oral Sex, Orgasm Without Ejaculation, Ownership And Consent, Promiscuity, Red Carpet Event, Revelations, Robot Sex, Robots, Roughness, S.H.I.E.L.D., Scents & Smells, Science Bros, Sexy Cars, Slut Shaming, Smart Thor, Trust, Unresolved Sexual Tension, speed - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 91,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An A.I. like KITT needs an excellent body in order to function properly. Fortunately, Tony Stark is able to provide several.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evaluation 1

Tony Stark was very seldom nervous, and never unaccountably. That's what made the little flutter in his stomach when Steve Rogers entered his sunlit office all the more weird.  

"Well?" he asked the big corn-fed blond, and was relieved when the flutter didn't reach his voice. "What do you think?" 

Rogers frowned, folding his thick arms as his lips drew into a thoughtful line. "He's really something," he admitted. "If you hadn't told me he was a computer, I would have sworn he was an actual person speaking through a microphone. And you're right: he was happy to have someone else to talk to who isn't from this time." 

"Ah." He stood up, not entirely sure where he was going, and ended up stooping to splay his fingertips against the desktop. "So… what did you talk about?" 

"Popular music, mostly. It turns out he's a big fan of the Andrews Sisters and Benny Goodman's orchestra. Some of the stories he told me about the 80s…" He shook his head with a trace of a smile. "Let's just say I'm glad I didn't wake up in time for New Kids On The Block and Tiffany." 

"Yeah, you dodged a bullet there, all right." He fired a tight smile across the desk. "And?" 

Rogers sighed and took a seat, signalling that he was getting down to business. "My guess is he'll follow orders — but only if he thinks they're good ones. There's a disciplined mind in there but it's got an insubordinate streak a mile wide. Right now he doesn't trust anybody much further than he can throw them, except possibly when it comes to you, and even then he's not sold on the idea that you're one hundred percent in his corner — but after what you told me about he way he was decommissioned, that's not really a surprise." 

Tony wasn't particularly fond of Rogers even after all they'd been through — there were still days when he was tempted to put on the suit and go toe to toe with him for the world championship title — but he knew him well enough to recognize this particular expression. "Okay, but…?" 

"Not a _but_. An _and_." He met Tony's gaze squarely. "Back in the day, we used to call it a berserker button — something that's guaranteed to set a person off if it's pushed. KITT's berserker button is the death of his former driver, and I'd say that any equivalent situation would trigger it just as well. If I were you I'd think twice about putting him in control of heavy ordnance, because if he thinks that you're in that kind of danger I'd bet dollars to donuts he won't hesitate to use whatever he's got to get you out of it." 

"Me?" It was vitally important to be clear on that point. 

"You," Rogers said firmly. "He's not exactly complimentary about you, but you're the one he talks about more than anybody else except Michael Knight. And he's really looking forward to going out in the car with you soon — whatever that means." 

"That's good to know." And it was. It really shouldn't have mattered, but it did. "Thanks, Rogers. I appreciate you taking some time out of your busy schedule to —" 

"Tony?" Rogers looked up at him with solemn eyes far too blue to seem real. "Don't trust him. I know I'm not exactly current, but he doesn't act the way a machine should act, does he?" 

Tony pondered that for about half a second. "Considering that there's never been a machine quite like him before or since, I'd say there's no way to make that kind of determination." He flashed a cheeky grin and a wink. "Thanks, Old Man. I'll keep all that in mind." 

Rogers all but rolled his eyes as he rose and departed, as if he knew full well that Tony wasn't going to let a little thing like common sense and good advice stop him from grabbing for something he really wanted. 


	2. Manifestation 1

He stepped off the elevator into the vast underground garage of his tower dressed for a night on the town: sleek black suit, expensive red silk cravat, gleaming shoes, a slim-cut raven cashmere coat. He felt like a million bucks on the hoof — or more accurately, nine point three billion, dressed to kill and looking absolutely marvellous. At times like this even the finest car in his collection seemed barely adequate to match his splendour, a piece of costume jewellery almost negligible in its impact. 

But then KITT pulled smoothly out of the space at the far end of the row where he had been waiting and turned toward the human who had come for him, and for a couple of seconds Tony simply stopped in his tracks and stared, forgetting even to breathe. 

He'd always been in love with technology. A beautifully engineered machine gave him a thrill as deep and primal as a beautiful woman's face or breasts, but over the course of years of encountering and creating fantastic tech his threshold for excitation had risen considerably since the day he'd activated his first A.I. at the tender age of seventeen, and exulted in its simple self-directed actions. 

Certainly a machine dating from the 1980s shouldn't have given him a jolt of adrenaline and a sharp reflexive clench in the vicinity of his heart. Definitely not. But when he saw this car flowing toward him across the underground garage, the overhead lights kindling streams of sparks from its ebony quicksilver finish…  

 _Dear God in Heaven._  

Because beyond the purely physical elegance of it, this machine was _alive_. It came to him of its own accord with an almost sensual whine of its engine, accelerating smoothly and spinning to a stop ten feet away with its passenger side toward him, as if offering itself for his delectation. And he stared without shame, letting his eyes drink in the perfect lines of it, like liquid darkness made animate. When he approached it to reach out and run his hand slowly from the curve of its roof down the windshield frame and onto the long starboard edge of its hood, feeling the Tri-Helical Plasteel 1000 MBS as warm and as silky as skin beneath his palm, he found that his mouth had gone dry. 

" _If you're going to touch me that way,"_ KITT said sternly after several seconds, _"at least buy me a bouquet of roses and an expensive dinner first!_ " 

"Shut up. Openly admiring." He removed his hand reluctantly and walked slowly around the front of the vehicle, pleased by the way the ruby scanner contrasted with the midnight hue of the rest of it — and by the way he could feel its gaze, an almost palpable weight on his skin. Now that his senses were fully restored KITT could see every detail of him, including the electromagnetic elements that blurred his status as a pure human being. " _Wow_. You… are one sexy _sexy_ automobile." 

" _Bold of you to admit it,"_ KITT retorted dryly. _"And thank you. Just wait until you get a taste of what's under the hood._ " 

"Oh, baby, that's it — talk dirty to me!" The driver side door lock clicked open just before he touched the handle, and when he opened the body of the machine up and slipped inside he found the seat perfectly adjusted to accommodate his height and leg length. The door closed behind him of its own accord with a muted _click_ , and it was an embrace unlike any he'd ever experienced before, even in JARVIS. Maybe not even inside the suit. "What did you say your top speed was…?" 

" _Three hundred and sixty-two miles per hour, in Super Pursuit Mode._ " The voice modulator he'd first seen in the lab was now positioned just above the steering column, marking KITT's every syllable with a flash of ruby to match his scanner's tone. 

"Painfully illegal!" He placed his hands on the steering yoke and felt the car's inherent power thrum into his fingers, up his arms and shoulders until it seemed to hum in harmony with his arc reactor. Hot _damn_. He had to lick his lips to wet them. "Even sexier." 

" _Careful — you're up to roses, dinner,_ ** _and_** _a concert._ " 

"At this point," Tony said with utmost sincerity, "I'll hire Lady Gaga and 30 Seconds to Mars for a private show if you'll open it up all the way." 

" _I'd prefer the London Philharmonic and a fine mezzo-soprano, thank you."_ Was that actually _flirtation_ in his voice? _"And we'll see about opening up later — if you're good._ " 

"Define 'good'." His mouth had gone dry all over again. "And please, don't say that it involves keeping you below all posted speed limits." 

Definitely a purr this time. " _I'd be highly disappointed if you did._ " 

"The London Philharmonic, eh? That can be arranged." He shook his head ruefully, employing the sardonic thought like a splash of cold water. Anything to cut the… lust? Yeah, that was the term, all right. "I can't believe I'm being blackmailed by an automobile…" 

" _A sexy_ ** _sexy_** _automobile_ ," KITT reminded him, as if he needed reminding. 

His mouth was still dry. "Point taken." He surveyed the dashboard, marking the position of each control likely to be used on a drive through Manhattan, and tightened his grip on the yoke. "Okay, KITT — let's see what you can do." 

" _With pleasure,_ " KITT responded with tremendous relish, and surged forward under the touch of Tony's foot on the gas as the cruise indicator on his dash shifted from AUTO CRUISE to NORMAL CRUISE. Tony did not miss the significance of this simple act as a gesture of trust — and, he got the distinct impression, of intimacy. 

He was about as far from disappointed with the evening that followed as could possibly be imagined, even though he barely spent ten minutes outside the confines of the car. Sometimes it really _did_ come down to the company one kept... 


	3. Gravitation

Seven hours later the _Wow!_ factor still hadn't faded appreciably, at least as far as Tony was concerned. Which was crazy, because he ate and drank and breathed technology enough to know full well that the Knight 2000 robotic automobile didn't contain anything particularly revolutionary for the year 2012. Even its MBS had modern equivalents — 

 _but I'll be using the old formula on_ ** _his_** _suit, because he'd like it that way_  

— and most of its hardware had been upgraded using science his own company had developed. Nope, nothing either exciting or surprising there… 

… except the mind that had taken up residence again inside its sleek black carapace. _That_ was one of a kind, and it couldn't seem to get enough of the man it had invited to sit behind the wheel. _That_ was where the thrill came from, making everything else more exciting through some kind of contact alchemy, because the more time he spent with KITT the more Tony was forced to concede that a small group of programmers back in the 80s had pulled off a trick that even he couldn't replicate — not without a lot more time and in-depth study, anyway. 

And tonight had confirmed that time and proximity were not going to be an issue, and neither was fundamental compatibility. Nobody who lacked a human body should be able to fire up a guy's nervous system like a hotwired Christmas tree, but damn it, KITT was one A.I. who knew exactly which buttons to push and in what order. 

Was it part of the imprinting process? Was KITT doing what he'd been designed to do for Michael Knight: becoming exactly what his pilot needed? Was his psychological mapping algorithm that nimble and efficient? Or maybe…? 

Insane questions. Better not think about that too much, not if he wanted to get any sleep tonight. He glanced at the clock: 2:58 a.m. Too damned late to be mooning over a machine, no matter how gorgeous and unique. 

But he could still hear KITT's voice in the car's cabin, seeming to emanate from all around him: _"You know, Tony, there's one thing I've come to appreciate about you above all else these past seven days…"_  

They'd tooled around Manhattan all evening, bantering and talking tech and collecting admiring gazes and just enjoying the car, then swept over the Brooklyn Bridge and out to New Jersey at half past one in the morning to find a nice long deserted stretch of highway where KITT, having apparently decided that Tony had been sufficiently well-behaved, had let him push the car's limits a little — only up to one eighty-five, and it shouldn't have been as exciting as cracking Mach I in the armour, but it was, because he couldn't shake that weird feeling that the body roaring beneath him and around him was alive and _letting_ him take it to the edge. The taste of speed was a collaborative act, furtive and definitely illegal — a little like sodomy in most states, now that he thought about it.  

He couldn't afford to think too far along those lines. No, he was _not_ having sex with this automobile by slipping inside it and flirting with it outrageously and making its engine rev and moan, that was ridiculous, you didn't have sex with machines — not if you were well-adjusted, anyway. Not even if the machine in question was bright and bitchy and intricate and a fantastic conversationalist and dammit, it really _was_ flirting with you, and it wanted you to drive it forever. That wasn't sex. It was… well, okay, he had to admit that the lines were a little blurry there, but it was definitely _not_ sex according to the standard definition of putting Tab A into Slot B. 

Then the focus of KITT's voice had shifted, to whisper in his left ear with a thrilling brand-new texture like liquid velvet: _"… your singularly_ ** _passionate_** _nature. Take me someplace where we can cut loose a little?"_  

Oh, _hell_. His brain had gone about twenty different places, some of them downright filthy, but in the end he'd had to settle for a stretch of empty highway in Camden, New Jersey.  

 _How about lovemaking, then?_ a traitorous little voice piped up in the back of Tony's mind as he lay in bed at 3:00 a.m., staring at the ceiling and trying to banish the thrill of speed and power and snappy repartee from his still-singing nervous system. _Does that term fit? Because he certainly enjoyed the hell out of it, and you were rock-hard in your pants a few times during the course of the evening and you can't say that you weren't at least halfway there for the rest of it. Sure, you didn't actually fuck him, but what's that the Good Book says about lusting in your heart?_  

Which was also completely crazy. For one thing, men did nothing for him. For another thing, he wasn't even talking about a man at all… which was maybe part of the problem. A loophole, as it were: masculine but not male, _ding-ding-ding_ , pass Go and collect two hundred dollars — and Tony Stark's libido.  

Problem? Or solution? 

 _Why didn't you ask him, Tony?_ the voice of insanity whispered. _Why didn't you just come right out and say "Hey listen, you've probably noticed by now that I've got a damn fine boner because you just pronounced the word 'passionate' like you actually know what it means, and I was wondering if you're getting the vehicular equivalent of blue balls on your end too? Because if you are, well, maybe…_  

 _"… maybe we can figure something out. See, there's this tech called Life Model Decoy that —"_  

He rolled onto his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head, refusing to think about it any more, calling Pepper's smiling face and warm soft contours fiercely to mind instead. His body responded all right — if any woman on the planet was capable of holding Tony Stark's attention, she was unquestionably the one, even if things hadn't exactly been rock solid between them in the weeks before she'd taken her trip — but somehow she felt much further away the six thousand, seven hundred and thirty-five miles that currently separated them, and for once the knowledge that he could don the suit and speed to her side whenever he wanted to had very little gravitational pull at all. 

His last thought before sleep finally, mercifully, claimed him was that he was glad he'd never claimed to be exclusive. 


	4. Acceleration 1

Outside the car's windows dusk was coming down purple out of the clear desert sky. Inside the cabin, KITT actually sounded impressed, and maybe a tad appalled as well. " _You rented the entire Utah salt flats?_ " 

Tony cocked a grin at the voice modulator, which he'd chosen as the focal point of his interactions with the A.I. while using the robotic automobile body. "Let's just say that I made the entry restrictions go away for a couple of hours, just for you." He tightened his grip on the steering yoke fractionally and tapped the gas pedal, making the insane number of horses beneath the hood roar like a convention of lions. "Now, are you going to show me what this thing can really do?"

 "' _This thing' happens to be my body, thank you very much —_ " NORMAL CRUISE switched to AUTO CRUISE with no warning whatsoever, a nearly savage surge of acceleration slamming Tony back into the driver's seat as they rocketed out onto the vast flat surface. " _— and brother, you ain't seen nothin' yet!_ " 

It took him a couple of seconds to drag in a deep breath through the sudden pounding of his heart, to fully surrender to both Newton's third law of motion and KITT's mastery of the vehicle, and to drop his hands onto his thighs to clutch those instead. "Do it," he nearly moaned through clenched teeth, knowing that one hundred and ninety miles per hour and counting shouldn't be lighting up his nervous system like this, but it did because KITT's entire body enclosed him in a song of fierce ecstatic joy, its power truly unbound.  

Almost. 

"Come on…" Two hundred and thirty, two hundred and forty — but he knew, and more, he could _feel_ that KITT was holding back. He reached out his right hand to press it to the centre of the yoke, half a caress and half an exhortation. "Come on, baby, give it to me — I want it _all_ …" 

" _Oh_ ** _yes_** ," an answering moan as the robot began to transform itself all around him and finally achieve the limits of performance that had been denied to it thus far, the world outside blurring to incomprehensibility, themselves the only stable point in the midst of all that earth and sky, running forever.  

************************************** 

Shortly thereafter he broke out the Mark IX armour, which had been sitting in KITT's back seat looking like the briefcase it definitely wasn't, and they played tag without having to worry about the confines of urban space. He had to admit that the car could move — not well enough to truly give him a challenge as Iron Man in his full armour, but fast and agile enough to give the Mark IX a workout, certainly quick enough that chasing KITT around the flats and being chased in return, watching him slew and skid and spin out in moves as precisely controlled as a champion ice skater's improvisations, was a helluva lot of fun. As they raced across the desert towards the distant mountains at a significant proportion of Mach I it occurred to Tony that he'd never really done this with anyone else before, not with someone he wasn't trying to take down, anyway, and that it was exhilarating to cut loose and just… well,  play, with a playmate who had half a hope of keeping up with him. And KITT, in spite of having a four wheel base, wasn't as easy to catch as might be supposed: he had a way of braking or putting on a burst of speed or twisting to slide out from under Tony at the last possible fraction of a second, leaving him with nothing to lay his hand upon but turbulent air.  

At that kind of velocity it didn't take them long to hit the foothills, where Tony fully expected KITT to stop, or at least turn around and head back the way they'd come. Instead the car put on another burst of speed as they approached the chain link fence with its big yellow "DO NOT ENTER" sign and blew through a chained security gate like it wasn't even there, swerving onto the rising road beyond. 

Tony came to a screeching halt mid-sky. "Hey! Come back here! That's not part of the —!" 

KITT's didn't even slow down. His projected voice echoed from the rocky hillsides, almost laughing: " _I'm pretty sure you can make those restrictions go away too, if you really try — or at least pay off any resulting fines!"_  

"Dammit, KITT, I said _stop!_ " 

" _Make me,_ " the car challenged, and promptly went off-road at something over one hundred and fifty miles per hour.

They spent the next seventeen minutes playing hide-and-seek in the rapidly darkening landscape, and Tony discovered that KITT's Silent Mode made the vehicle extremely difficult to track when full night came down — or would have, for someone without the suit's sensors and heads-up display. He also learned that although the Trans Am body was low slung it was remarkably stable in rough terrain, and that KITT had a nearly uncanny talent for plotting courses through natural obstacle sets that you would have sworn would get him hung up or cut off at some point or another. In most cases KITT"s own cleverness took care of the problem, and in those instances where he couldn't rapidly calculate a way around or through an obstruction he didn't hesitate to use his Turbo Boost function to good effect. 

Tony let himself be led a merry chase, only occasionally swooping down to intercept his quarry and prompt it to change course, taking the opportunity to judge both the car's physical capabilities and KITT's own real-time on-the-fly response patterns. He had to confess himself impressed by what he was seeing: it was an encouraging sign that the A.I. would be able to handle the complexities of three dimensional flight in the power suit android without breaking a mental sweat. When he'd judged he'd seen enough he chased KITT to the point where the foothills started to become real mountains, then swooped in on the car's left side and repulsor blasted it with enough juice to almost flip its body off the ground, prompting an indignant exclamation — " _Hey!_ " — and forcing it into a turn onto a narrow road leading steeply off the level ground, curving around the flank of a spire of ragged rock. KITT, left with no choice, sped nimbly up the incline to the top, only to find himself fenced in where the road widened by a sheer drop on one side, a steep cliff face on the other, and Iron Man landing directly ahead, extending a commanding hand and booming sternly: "Stop, in the name of the law!"

The car screeched to a halt barely a foot from his armoured legs, and issued a grudging admission: " _You got me, copper._ " 

"Damn right I do, so cool those jets, Boston." He went down on one knee to tap the car's hood just above its scanner port. "Tag. I win. Game over." 

" _Dead to rights, I must admit,_ " KITT continued, his scanner tracking furiously; then it slowed to a lazy sweep concurrent with his change in tone to a suggestive purr: " _Now, what are you going to do with me?_ " 

"What I ought to do is take you back to New York City and ground you for a month," Tony scolded him, trying not to smile although the faceplate hid his expression. He strongly suspected that KITT could easily detect the tiniest changes in tone produced by facial configuration. "Or let the State authorities here stick you in an impound lot until your tires fall off." A harder rap with his knuckles on the hood. "The next time I tell you to stop, I expect you to _stop!_ " 

" _If you'd really wanted to stop me, you could have picked me up with one hand._ " Still purring, damn it — and absolutely right. " _I think you actually enjoy a little disobedience, under the right circumstances._ " 

"That doesn't address the question of what I should do with you right now." He straightened, reflecting that turning KITT over his knee and spanking him red would have been the first choice, but of course that was physically impossible — albeit highly appealing in any number of ways, some of which made his armour quite a bit tighter in certain key areas.  

" _May I make a suggestion?_ " 

"You're going to do it anyway, so… sure, why not?" 

He shifted into reverse and backed and turned, orienting his prow toward the cliff's edge before shutting off his engine. " _Come sit on my hood and lean back against my windshield. The stars have come out, and when the moon rises it will be an absolutely glorious night._ " 

"You do realize that we're out here illegally, right?" Tony noted, but he was already minimizing the suit, which left him standing in his jeans, high-top sneakers, and Grateful Dead t-shirt again.  

" _And you do realize that we covered fifty-three point two miles on our way in here?"_ KITT put the top down, opening his interior to the balmy night. _"I sincerely doubt that a park ranger is going to come wandering by and start asking inconvenient questions._ " 

"That's a point." He picked up the suitcase and tossed it into the back seat, then hopped up onto the car's hood on the passenger side and scootched himself into position as invited. It was surprisingly comfortable to lie back and let himself relax, and when he laid his left hand flat on the glossy black finish beside his left thigh he could feel that eery warmth and softness, almost like living skin. "Think we could get some music?" 

" _All right, but definitely_ ** _not_** _that appalling cacophony you call 'heavy metal'._ "  

KITT's tart tone made him smile fully. "Naw, not tonight. You pick." 

" _Thank you._ " The car's audio system fired up with the tinkling of an old-time piano, and Andy Williams started singing about how important it was to remember that a kiss was still a kiss and a sigh was just a sigh. After a long moment KITT did sigh, or nearly so. " _I must admit, that felt incredible. It's been too long since I've been able to pull out all the stops._ " 

"You're welcome," Tony smirked, running his fingertips in idle circles over that silky hide. 

" _I don't suppose we could do this again sometime?_ "  

His wistful tone made Tony's mouth quirk with a different quality of amusement. "How would you like to do it on a regular basis?" 

A pause, full of puzzlement rapidly becoming confusion. Encouraging, too, that he'd gotten to the point where he could read so much into this being's silences. " _I don't understand._ " 

"I've decided what I want to do with you in the long term. What would you say to having an android body based on my own power suit, so you could go back to doing a version of your original job?" 

" _Solving crimes and protecting the innocent, the helpless and the powerless?_ " 

"Well… not so much the 'solving crimes' part — but the protection part? Definitely." 

" _As a humanoid?_ " Openly dubious. 

"Yep, in a snazzy black and silver colour scheme and everything." He raised his right hand from his stomach and swept it across the air in front of him, as if drawing a marquee. "I was thinking we could call you… 'Obsidian Boy'." 

" ** _Boy_** _?_ " He practically spat the word back in Tony's face. " _How unnecessarily demeaning! Just plain 'Obsidian' would do, thank you very much!_ " 

"Not as good from a marketing point of view," Tony pointed out, curving his right hand under the nape of his neck. 

" _But much more technically accurate, considering that I was never a child._ " A significant beat. " _And that I never will be._ " 

"Okay, okay, don't get your muffler in a bunch." He patted the hood, then went back to caressing it again. "Obsidian it is." 

The stars wheeled slowly overhead. The moon crested the horizon, turning the landscape to silver and ebony abstracts. Andy Williams had crooned his way through several songs and was singing about Moon River, wider than a mile, when KITT remarked: " _I thought Iron Man didn't have a sidekick._ " 

"I don't. You'll be training under me at first, but the plan is to license you as an autonomous agent." He could definitely feel the skeptical quality of that silence, so he shrugged and added: "I can't be everywhere at once. And…" 

" _And?_ " 

He was pretty sure KITT had already started calculating all the ramifications of the proposal, but he stated this one anyway: "And there are battle tactics for two power suits that I can't take advantage of on my own. Merging repulsor streams on a really tough target, for example." 

" _Yes,_ " KITT drawled thoughtfully, " _I can see how the results of that would be… explosive._ " 

"Oh, trust me — they are." He pressed his hand flat to the hood again, then raised it over his head to pat the windshield frame in a gesture of nervous displacement that he didn't entirely understand. "So, how's that sound?" 

" _You really won't try to call me Obsidian Boy, or any other similarly insulting moniker?_ " 

He crossed his heart. "Scout's honour — just plain Obsidian from now on." 

A long pause, full of keen consideration. " _Well then… I suppose so. You say you'll be training me yourself?_ "  

Smiling again, he closed his eyes and settled himself even more comfortably on his unlikely couch. "That's a promise, KITT. I wouldn't trust anybody else to do it right." 

Silence fell between them again, humming like an open circuit, while a long-dead singer extolled the virtues of dream makers, heart breakers, and the ends of rainbows. 


	5. Permutations

Six afternoons later he was sitting on the luxurious leather couch in his penthouse suite at the apex of his titular tower, drinking brandy and flipping channels mechanically, not really seeing any of the images that strutted and fretted across the giant TV screens in front of him. His mind, as the saying goes, was a million miles away, chewing over the fact that he hadn't had a voice-to-voice phone call with Pepper Potts in almost two weeks, and why, and what he was going to say when they finally connected, which was likely to happen sooner rather than later. 

They had a lot to talk about. The problem was that he didn't want to discuss any of it, and in fact would have cheerfully chopped off his own right arm if it would have gotten him out of having the conversation in question. 

Game show. Soccer game. Reality TV. _Flip. Flip. Flip._  

The rest of the road trip with KITT had been largely uneventful, unless you counted the truly abysmal food at certain truck stops, a score of unsuccessful attempts by unscrupulous owners of out-of-the-way gas stations to sabotage KITT's tires or undercarriage (with predictably hilarious results), and ongoing episodes of flirting heavy enough to sink a large aircraft carrier. By the time they'd gotten back to New York City, Tony was convinced of two things: that this A.I. was more than smart and resourceful enough to make a successful independent agent, and that after their little "date" on the salt flats of Utah he'd never be able to look at an evening of dinner and dancing with Pepper with quite the same enthusiasm again. 

Talk show. Medical mystery. _Remington Steele_ rerun. _Flip. Flip. Flip._  

He didn't really want to think about Pepper, but he knew that he had to because this situation, if it kept going this way, was going to lead to an explosive head-on collision sooner or later. On the face of it he had his ass covered: he'd always been clear with her that he wasn't exactly an exclusive kind of guy, and she'd accepted that — or at least, she'd _said_ she did. She'd even given him overt permission to take other lovers while she was overseas, a permission he'd extended to her as well, although knowing her temperament he sincerely doubted she'd take advantage of any opportunities that came her way: her high-profile boyfriend might be a player, but she was a one-man kind of girl, absolutely true blue. 

And he'd played to that proclivity of hers for the better part of seven months, managing — for the most part — to resist the beautiful temptations that the world laid in the path of a rich and powerful man. It had been a German supermodel, big and bold and busty and surprisingly intelligent, who had managed to really get under Pepper's skin, inflaming her to the point where she and Tony had had their first knock-down screaming fight over… hell, Tony still wasn't clear about exactly what had set Pepper off, only that she'd been hurting so badly that he would have done anything to ease that devastated ache in her big blue eyes. He'd sworn that he'd never see the supermodel again, and he hadn't… but the crack in the foundation of their relationship had remained wide open, the elephant in the room that they resolutely avoided talking about. When, a couple of weeks later, the opportunity had arisen to send Pepper to Japan to oversee the startup stages of a new Stark Industries franchise, they'd both leaped at the chance for a break in their relationship with a relief that they hadn't talked about either. 

Travelogue. Cupcake wars. The Kardashians. _Flip. Flip. Flip._  

But she'd been perfectly clear: _If you meet someone while I'm away…_  

 _I won't,_ he'd assured her, already thinking about how much he'd miss the curve of her smile and the colour of her hair and the texture of her sweet skin, conflicting tides of disquieted mourning and guilty relief. 

 _But if you do._ She'd looked him straight in the eye with that bold honesty he loved so much. _If you do, just… be happy, okay? I don't want you to be miserable just because I'm not here._  

So he'd promised her, thinking only that he would indeed be desolate in her absence. And being apart from her had confirmed the fact that she was probably the one woman on the planet who could ever have this kind of power over him. 

Fashion runway. A faux diamond necklace on the shopping channel. NASCAR, with a big STARK INDUSTRIES logo on the lead car. The image brought a tingle to his nerves, the memory of genuine speed and power, and he paused with his finger on the remote, staring at a simulacrum of movement that couldn't hold a candle to the real thing he'd held in his hands and tasted in every fibre of his body. 

Speed. Power. Perfect arousal and fulfillment, his for the asking. KITT took positive pleasure in making his life difficult, but he knew with perfect certainty that the A.I. would not refuse him. 

KITT would never refuse him. Not when it counted. 

The trouble was, the person he was falling for — okay, _had_ fallen for, if he was perfectly honest with himself — wasn't a woman, or even made of flesh and blood at all. Aside from his own perfectly understandable confusion over that state of affairs, he also had to try to take the future feelings and reactions of his girlfriend into account, which didn't make his balancing act any easier to maintain. 

Would the inhumanity make things better or worse at the moment of collision? On the one hand, Pepper might not feel threatened by a mere machine. On the other hand there was really nothing "mere" about KITT, and Pepper, like everyone else KITT encountered, would surely perceive that within minutes of meeting him for the first time.  

Furthermore, Tony was painfully aware that if he decided to move forward on this (beyond the high velocity flirting, that is) it wasn't going to be a casual fling, over and done in a few days or weeks. For one thing, he was letting KITT imprint upon him, and he was coming to understand that he couldn't just throw that off whenever he felt like it: in fact, it might have already passed the point of no return. For another thing, KITT had a way of slipping inside someone's armour and twining around their hearts and binding them fast — or at least, that's what he'd done to Tony. Pepper would see that too, the first time Tony looked at whatever vessel KITT happened to be inhabiting. And then… 

Oh, sweet baby Jesus, that was what he didn't want to think about. The fight over the supermodel had been bad enough, and he hadn't even been in love with — 

His gaze grew fixed and wide-eyed, staring at the images of brainless high-performance machines circling a pointless track. 

Hell _no!_ He wasn't…! 

Was he? 

Pepper. Keep coming back to Pepper, because he _did_ love her, he was fairly sure of that much. Maybe she'd actually  meant what she said, and was capable of understanding what he was experiencing. Maybe she'd be okay with this.  

Or, this could mark the end of a relationship that had been faltering, on and off, for nearly five weeks before her departure.  

He took another deep swallow of high-test alcohol, feeling the clean burn of it run down his throat and warm him from within. It tasted like the truth: he loved Pepper dearly, but he'd always known that she wasn't "the One", if such a person even existed for Anthony Edward Stark. She was close, though, he had to give her that. So many of the pieces fit. But one or two large ones — ones that were big enough to leave him restless and yearning — were conspicuously missing.  

Like speed. And power. And a ferocity and obsessiveness to match his own. An intellect capable of matching wits with him on the scientific front. The kind of strength that personal tragedy bestows when it doesn't shatter you completely.  

He'd never shied away from the fact that he was in love with technology. He'd just never expected to find technology that was worthy of the full spectrum of human love. 

He flicked off the TVs and rose to his feet, polishing off the brandy in two mouthfuls. "JARVIS, call up the specs on the Obsidian android and display current production targets, including incident testing reports." 

 _"Of course, sir."_ A cluster transparent windows flickered into existence in front of the couch, awaiting his return with a fresh drink. No, he was no stranger to tech that intertwined with his life until it felt as much a part of himself as his own brain and his own skin. But KITT was so clearly _other_ , outside Tony's control and therefore autonomous, mysterious, in possession of his own free will.  

Was that where the fascination came from? 

"Not a person," Tony muttered to himself as he poured another four fingers of Chartier. "Definitely _not_ a person." 

JARVIS politely refrained from asking him why he was lying to himself yet again. 


	6. Modification 1

Bruce Banner, newly back from a three week stay at a S.H.I.E.L.D. compound in Arizona where he'd been incommunicado while helping them figure out some kind of shape-shifting space rock, came up to Lab Four as soon as he'd dropped his suitcases in the bedroom of his permanent Stark Tower suite and thrown on a fresh set of clothes. Tony, who'd been kept abreast of his arrival and approach by JARVIS, had a pot of strong coffee and a plate of danishes on standby when the physicist strolled in the door of the vast space. "Hey, Tony." 

"Hey." He didn't glance up from the opened faceplate of the Obsidian android, but he knew that Bruce wouldn't be offended: a fellow scientist would completely understand the tactic of carrying on a conversation while deeply engrossed in a physical task. "So how was Arizona?" 

"Sunny and way too hot, but it's a dry heat. Which actually makes a difference, believe it or not." He diverted long enough to pour himself a cup of black coffee with three teaspoons of sugar before strolling over to survey the gleaming black humanoid shape, accented with flashes of silver detailing, that lay on a heavily reinforced metal couch nearly parallel to the floor. "I didn't know you were working on a new suit." 

"I'm always working on a new suit." A tiny spark flew up, dying instantly on the lab's cool air. "But as I'm sure you've already noticed, this isn't one of them." 

"No kidding." He parsed its contours, which were much too slim to house a human body of Tony's build. "Some kind of android?" 

"Got it on one." As usual, Bruce's presence filled him with the quiet exultation of knowing that here, for once, was a human mind who could actually keep up with him — most of the time, anyway. Plus he found the physicist's company soothing, which was really the very definition of irony, all things considered. 

A sip of coffee. A scowl. "I thought you said JARVIS wasn't suitable for combat applications." 

"JARVIS isn't going to be running it. I picked up a new A.I. while you were off having fun in the sun — part of a package of odds and ends from a defunct research company based in California. Turned out to be worth more than all the rest of the equipment combined." 

" _Why, thank you, Tony,_ " KITT intoned through JARVIS's audio system from Lab Two, and Tony smiled slightly at the manifest signal that the two programs were getting comfortable enough to rub shoulders that intimately. _"I'm glad to see that you're able to estimate value in terms other than mere dollars and cents."_  

"I thought I taught you to knock," he admonished, then grinned when KITT ostentatiously produced the sound of knuckles rapping on a wooden door. "And I also thought you were busy incorporating those locomotion protocols I wrote for you." 

" _I finished that over ten minutes ago,_ " KITT said dismissively, before shifting to a more inquisitive tone. " _Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?_ " 

He straightened on his stool and gestured grandly in his colleague's direction. "KITT, this is Doctor Bruce Banner, also known as —" 

" _— the Hulk,_ " KITT concluded. " _It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Banner, and given the potential consequences of your annoyance I hope you'll find it a pleasure to make my acquaintance as well._ " 

Bruce was looking up at the ceiling, his lips pursed in calculation. "That's a… Level 4-SIM A.I.?" 

" _A Level 5-SIM, actually, according to the nomenclature of this decade_ ," KITT supplied. " _Although personally I don't think the rating system goes high enough to classify me accurately. And I saw that, mister,_ " he added peevishly when Tony rolled his eyes before returning the the task of fine-tuning the android's scanner array. 

"Fascinating," Bruce mused with a hint of a Sphinx's smile. "Could I get a look at the programming language it's written in?" 

KITT's accent conveyed considerable annoyance this time. " _I'm right here, Doctor — and no, you may not. No offence intended, but that's a very personal question._ " 

"It's a legacy code from the 1980s," Tony remarked, still intent on the mechanism under his microtool. "The only company that used it was Knight Industries, and they've been defunct for almost twenty years. JARVIS, bring up KITT's emotional emulation protocol, Sub-Section B, Node 2317."  

After a few seconds of studying the display, which showed real-time process flow, Bruce simply said: "Wow. Somebody certainly knew what they were doing." 

"Maybe a little too well," Tony muttered. "JARVIS, test the unit's visual input, would you?" 

" _Of course, sir._ " The bar of red facets that adorned the android's face at human eye level glowed to life, tracking once, slowly, from left to right. " _Visible spectrum, infrared, and ultraviolet perceptors are all functioning within target ranges._ " 

"Excellent. I'll just finish hooking up the voice synthesizer, and then we can —" 

" _What's the point,_ " KITT interjected, " _when he clearly doesn't listen to anything I say anyway?_ " 

Bruce looked up again in surprise. Tony just sighed. "KITT…" Silence. "C'mon, KITT, don't sulk. Bruce is my Science Bro — we don't have any secrets between us." More silence, so he dropped his tone to a coaxing wheedle: "You know I love showing you off, right?" 

Grudgingly: " _Yes…_ " 

"Well, Bruce here is one of the few people on the planet who can appreciate you as much as I do. So why don't you take him on a tour of some of your highlights while I wrap up the finishing touches on your new body?"

Bruce spoke up in a tone of immense sincerity, almost laying it on too thick: "I'd really appreciate it, and I apologize for being so rude — it's not everyday I run into someone like you. Your uniqueness threw me for a loop there, and it took me a while to catch up." He held up his right hand, as if to shake hands with the presence overhead that his gaze was directed toward. "Friends?" 

" _Well…_ " But he was going for it. His ego was too big not to fall for a taste of that kind of flattery.

"Be nice, Kitten," Tony purred to sweeten the pot, already back at work. 

" _Of course I trust Tony's judgement,_ " KITT concluded, and after a significant pause: " _In this matter, at any rate. Very well, Doctor Banner — I'd be pleased to summarize my key features. How much longer will you need, Tony?"_  

"About seven minutes, and then you can transfer your core program into the onboard systems." He glanced up with an evil smirk. "Want to stick around, Bruce? This should be fun if he's half as wibbly-wobbly on his feet as I'm predicting he'll be." 

"I'm always up for observing a new experiment," Bruce rejoined with a twinkle in his brown eyes. 

" _If I'd known I was going to be the evening's entertainment, I would have had tickets printed up and made some fresh popcorn,_ " KITT groused. " _And only seven minutes? That's barely enough time to —!_ " 

"So stop wasting it," Tony suggested pointedly. 

In another display of how well he and JARVIS were getting along, KITT opened up six windows in front of Bruce and began scrolling data in all of them. " _Very well. I was originally designed by a team of three cybernetics programmers assembled by the billionaire philanthropist Wilton Knight, for the purpose of preserving human life and specifically for the task of protecting my imprinted driver. To that end, they structured my cognitive array in five interlocking components, each incorporating…_ " 

Tony went back into the Zone, letting the voices of his best friend and his… something… wash over him and flow through him as they rapidly talked their way into more and more esoteric levels of technical detail. He could tell that KITT was both surprised and pleased to encounter another human mind with that degree of intelligence, and he told himself firmly that the hot little niggle their lively discussion was creating deep in his gut was definitely _not_ jealousy. 


	7. Manifestation 2

" _Are you sure this is going to work?_ " KITT hedged, hesitating right on the threshold of the brave new world Tony had created for him. 

The scientist in question, standing beside the uninhabited android's now-upright couch, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, heaving a dramatic sigh. "I thought you said you trusted me." 

" _I do! But… this is such a big step!_ " 

"I promise I'll be gentle. Now get in." 

" _Tony…_ " 

"You want to be mobile again, right? For more than just the occasional drive on a Saturday night? And you want to get back to doing something actively useful instead of sitting around here hogging my server resources?" 

" _Yes, but —_ " 

He let a snap of annoyance sharpen his tone: "Then quit yer bitchin' and mount up, Buttercup." 

Bruce, who had taken up a position off to one side of the test space, leaned his elbow on the work desk he was sitting beside and munched happily on a danish, watching Tony and KITT like a spectator at a badminton match played with live hand grenades. He was a certifiable genius and way too smart to stick his own oar in these turbulent waters, but Tony could tell that he was finding the sparring most entertaining. 

" _All right — but if anything goes wrong I'll hold you personally responsible._ " 

"If anything goes wrong you probably won't be in a condition to hold anybody responsible for anything." 

" _Was that really supposed to make me feel better?_ " 

Tony pointed at the android. "JARVIS, give him a —" 

" _Uploading,_ " KITT said tersely, and Tony shoved his heart back down as it tried to rise into his throat and choke him while he counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. 

Four. 

Five. 

Two full seconds too long, and the android still hadn't moved, its scanner dark and inert. He stepped around in front of it to stare into its face, hearing that his voice had risen in pitch but seemingly unable to stop it: "KITT?" 

Six. 

Seven. 

Eight. 

" _KITT?_ " Almost a full octave this time as he took a compulsive step closer. 

The voice modulator that constituted the android's 'mouth' finally flashed to life, three vertical gradated bars marking each syllable. " _Yes, Tony?_ " 

"Jesus…" He resisted the temptation to wipe his forehead with his right hand, settling for a glare instead. "You did that on purpose, you son of a bitch!" 

" _Well, pardon me for taking a few seconds longer than expected to settle myself into an entirely new system architecture,_ " KITT retorted testily. " _Audio input is functioning, obviously. Enabling visual systems._ " The scanner blazed solid ruby for one point five seconds before the point of light began to swiftly track back and forth. " _Fascinating…_ " The android's head looked down and cocked slightly to one side, regarding Tony "sidelong" — and in that instant, in that tiny movement, KITT's uncanny life flowed into every line of his new body. Suddenly _it_ became _he_ in Tony's mind, indelibly. " _You look shorter than I thought you would_." 

"And you look…" _Absolutely gorgeous, sleek and gleaming and slim and graceful, like the soul of night given a humanoid shape to wear —and you haven't even really moved_. "Pretty damned impressive. Bruce?" 

"He hasn't tried walking yet," the physicist called out cheerfully, reaching for another danish. 

" _I'm getting there,_ " KITT said with more than a trace of defensiveness. 

"Performance anxiety, KITT?" Tony couldn't keep a hint of wicked glee out of his tone. "Hey, no problem, it happens to the —" 

" _Stand back._ " Then, when all Tony did was blink: " _You're too close. If I topple over, the last thing you want is for three hundred and ninety-eight pounds of metal to land right on top of you._ " 

And suddenly he was aware that he _was_ too close, that his fascination had drawn him a full two steps nearer in the time KITT had been speaking through the android's synthesizer, which gave his voice a slightly more organic feel, no question about it. "Right," he said, and moved well off to KITT's left, back toward Bruce's position. "JARVIS, give me process flow and dynametric displays." The transparent screens sprang into being to his left, giving him a clear line of view to the android, and he was pleased by what the readings revealed even as he cautioned: "Remember, take it slow and easy. There'll be time for grandstanding later." 

" _And this from a man who once famously said that sometimes you've got to run before you can walk!_ " 

"JARVIS, have you been telling tales out of school?" 

" _I'm afraid I have, sir._ " But Tony's full attention was now on the Obsidian android, because KITT was leaning forward and pushing away from the construction couch, testing his right leg in a first step which looked like a thoroughbred colt trying its footing for the first time, for all that he was composed of steel and other materials far more durable. 

At least he didn't fall flat on his faceplate, which was an excellent beginning. "Easy," Tony cautioned again as KITT half-crouched and extended his arms slightly to stabilize a sway, his whole posture communicating uncertainty while streams of code clashed in the display. "Stop trying to override the locomotion protocols. You don't have wheels anymore." 

" _That's easy for you to say!_ " 

"I had to learn to walk in the suit too." He tapped commands into the interface, recoding the less effective parts of the locomotion protocols on the fly. "Better?" It was, he could see that it was in the way KITT straightened and drew his arms back in again. "Good! That's it, don't fight the flow…" 

Another wobbly step, a pause, and then another. He was already beginning to move with less hitch and jerk. " _This feels surpassingly strange._ " 

Spotting another rough spot in the code, Tony moved in to smooth it over. "Trust me, it's like learning to ride a bicycle." 

" _Oh, like you'd know!_ " KITT snapped, swaying alarmingly again when he tried to go too fast, but catching himself just in time to avoid a sprawl. 

"Whoa there, kiddo…! And I'll have you know I was a bike-riding champ, back when I was in short pants." The code now looked clean, so he watched the android instead, noting with pride that it was now walking slowly but steadily. "Good, KITT — much better!" 

This humanoid form couldn't smile, but Tony could have sworn he was hearing a smirk in those cultured tones. " _You know, maybe this won't be so bad after all._ " 

"Don't get cocky yet," he warned. "We've still gotta teach you how to walk and chew gum — and manage your sensor and weapons systems — at the same time. Oh, and how to fly. You'll be spending a lot of your time airborne." 

" _I don't imagine it can be that difficult — it's all a matter of real time rolling location plotting in a four vector Cartesian coordinate system."_  

"Yeah," Tony muttered, "try saying that three times fast while dodging and returning incoming fire." 

" _You forget the degree of processing power at my command,_ " KITT said haughtily. 

"I haven't forgotten a damned thing," Tony stated with a wry quirk of his lips. "In fact, I expect you to fall flat on your brand new shiny metal ass the first ten or twenty times we run you through the training exercises." 

JARVIS elected to throw in a quip: _"With all due respect, KITT, you really have no idea concerning the challenges you're about to face."_  

" _Oh ye of little faith!_ " He reached the edge of the test area and dared to turn in place, his motions cautious but effective, and when he was oriented back the way he'd come he turned his face toward Tony again and raised his chin proudly. " _There. Are you satisfied that I can stand on these two feet now?_ " 

Tony scowled and gave the dynametric display another critical glance, then tapped the interface again. "As long as you don't have anything else demanding your attention, maybe. JARVIS, keep an eye on his performance stats, and you," he pointed a stern finger at KITT's new body, "keep practicing the walk, using the stride patterns I just uploaded into our database. I'll be back in about fifteen minutes." 

KITT, who had oriented his face forward again, snapped his head around so fast that he almost stumbled. " _Where do you think_ ** _you're_** _going?_ " he demanded with a hint of panic.  

"To take a piss, grab a sandwich and put on the suit. As soon as I get back we'll take you…" And he jabbed his forefinger at the glass-doored portal leading to the wide sky, which was darkening toward a cirrus cloud streaked winter's evening. 

KITT seemed taken aback. " _So soon?_ " 

"Tell me, smart guy, just how long do you think the fascination of doing the left-right-left dance is going to last?" 

" _Until I master the process._ " 

"And that'll take…?" 

A pause, that sleek head cocked to one side again while KITT reviewed the lesson plan Tony had just uploaded. " _Thirteen minutes and forty-eight seconds, more or less._ " 

"Exactly. There's no reason not to move you on to the next step and roll out the flight protocols. Running and walking, remember? If there's a compatibility or process speed issue we'll be better off finding out sooner rather than later." 

This time KITT's head tilt in the opposite direction could be interpreted as admiring. " _For such a passionate primitive you possess a surprisingly logical mind._ " 

"Oh, you have no idea — yet. But you will. See you in fourteen." 

**************************************

Thirteen minutes and change later he came striding into the lab again with a much heavier step, clad in his Mark VII armour, the faceplate of which was up to reveal his cocky grin. "Hey Luuuucy, I'm — _what the hell do you think you're doing?_ " 

"I tried to stop him," Bruce said amiably, grinning like a loon. Tony noted, peripherally, that he'd finished off all the danishes, but the vast majority of his outraged attention was focussed on the Obsidian android, which was hovering near the high ceiling on smoothly firing repulsor jets.  

" _As did I,_ " JARVIS added. " _However, given that he was able to analyze the logs of your own initial test flights to —_ " 

"And it didn't occur to you to _tell_ me this?" He was aware that he was nearly bellowing. 

JARVIS didn't cough, but occasions like this he almost did. " _You were… indisposed, sir._ " 

"Putting on the suit, or taking a piss?" 

" _Eating the sandwich, actually._ " 

He turned his glare on KITT, who was spinning slowly and gracefully in place while keeping his face oriented toward Tony, like a dancer. "Did you even practice those stride patterns I assigned?" 

" _Of course I did,_ " KITT said primly, drifting down to land neatly in the centre of the test field. He approached his owner with a catlike gliding gait, gesturing at his own slim form with obvious and elegant pride. " _And I must admit, your heuristics are impeccable: it feels like I've worn this body for years rather than mere minutes. Are we going to take it out for a spin now?_ " 

The A.I. sounded so eager that for a fraction of a second Tony almost forgot how angry he was. "Remember what I said back in Utah about grounding you for a month?" 

Coming to a halt five feet in front of him, KITT regarded him with a slowly tracking scanner. " _You wouldn't. You've been looking forward to this as much as I have._ " 

"Says the guy who didn't even want to put the body on!" 

" _I'll admit I was nervous at first, but now…_ " He raised his left hand and slowly clenched and unclenched it, turning it to watch the well-oiled motion of the slender fingers with clear fascination. " _There's so much this vessel can do that my former incarnations couldn't even begin to touch. I want to experience more._ " His gaze shifted to Tony again, with that appealing tilt of his pointed chin as his sharp tones softened to an audible caress: " _And I want you to teach me, Tony — I want you to teach me_ ** _everything_** _. Please?_ " 

Oh, hell — no armour on Earth could protect him from that particular attack, slipping through his defences and stirring his most secret flesh like the touch of a sly and knowing hand. Behind him he could sense the change in Bruce's posture from amused to alert, and realized with a sinking heart that the physicist hadn't missed the tone of voice — but what about the subtext? Bruce was closer to him than any human being on the planet, besides Pepper. Did he perceive all the nuances of what KITT was conveying, and more importantly, could he see the impact of that message on Tony Stark, billionare playboy who had never fancied men, ever? 

KITT was still looking at him, expectantly silent. He had to swallow before he could trust his voice to reply with suitable gruffness: "If I wasn't already suited up I'd kick your sorry ones-and-zeroes ass back into the mainframe right this second… but we have a weapons system test scheduled for tomorrow morning and I want you up to speed for it. JARVIS?" 

The glass doors folded open as Tony strode past KITT, turning just enough as he passed the android to jab a red forefinger into his ebony shoulder with an audible _ping_ of metal on metal. "Follow me, and for God's sake try not to crash into any buildings! I'm gonna show you what that hot new jalopy of yours can really do." 

KITT nodded, immediately turning to follow. " _Whatever you say! How close do you want me to stick?_ " 

Bruce couldn't possibly see Tony's face at this angle, so he felt safe in offering a backward glance with a smouldering smile of his own. "As tight as you can, baby. Just as tight as you possibly can." 

He dropped his faceplate and fired up, rocketing out into the golden glow of the sunset, where he rapidly discovered that KITT had absolutely no trouble in following his instructions almost to the letter. 


	8. Acceleration 2

The artificial cliffs and canyons of New York City were bathed in sunset light, blazing with radiance on their western faces and plunged into blue shadows everywhere else. Turning due north from Stark Tower to speed low over Central Park, Tony felt his heart soar with fresh electricity at the sight of his city spread out beneath him — because although his most luxurious house might be located in Malibu and all the world was Iron Man's territory, this glorious gritty metropolis was special to him in a way that no other place on the planet could ever be. Even the sordid beauties of Los Angeles couldn't hold a candle to it, and as he burned through the sky overhead he knew that eyes in the streets were turning to follow him, and fingers were pointing, and proud New Yorkers were saying to tourists: _See that? That's Iron Man, and he's one of us!_  

Today, for the first time, he wasn't alone in his flight. That was surely being noted too, and in one hour JARVIS would release the press package that Tony had given final approval on while devouring his pre-flight sandwich — but for now there was only speed, and power, and keeping an eye on JARVIS's remote monitoring of KITT's vitals as the new android was pushed to faster and faster pursuit. So far so good: energy expenditures were stable and within projected parameters, the vector math looked solid, and the Obsidian unit's repulsors and flight stabilizers were firing clean, its ebony control surfaces gleaming with a thousand sparks of reflected sunlight as they shifted configuration when Tony led it into its first hard turn, around the northern point of Inwood. KITT was sticking very close indeed, between 1 and 2.5 metres out from Tony's left shoulder, but as they streaked back toward Harlem the A.I. suddenly broke formation and began to improvise, still within that range of separation but in a much more dynamic set of configurations.   

Two aspects of Tony's own armour which affected its maximum effective power levels were his desire to keep its profile as small as possible combined with the fact that he had to squeeze his own body inside its shell. The Obsidian android didn't have to carry a human pilot at all, which meant that he had been able to make it much slimmer while simultaneously packing in more equipment and a larger power source — and consequently KITT was both lighter and somewhat faster than Iron Man's Mark VII armour. And more manoeuvrable: as they thundered back into the towers of Midtown Tony kept ramping up the flight speed and KITT kept literally flying circles around him, sticking close as he'd promised while they followed Seventh Avenue at a height of one hundred metres.  

Another tight turn round the island's southern tip, then back the way they'd come: Tony intended to give the cell phone cameras a good shot as they made their second pass over Times Square. He held their horizontal speed at Mach 0.6 as they returned to Central Park, then altered course without warning and sped back into Midtown again, initiating a bob-and-weave flight pattern between the buildings designed to test the agility of KITT's new body. 

" _Oh_ ** _please_** _,_ " KITT drawled in his ear through the suit's earpiece, almost laughing — and kept right on top of him, following each course change with almost contemptuous ease, spinning slow spirals around him as he ramped up the speed and course complexity. " _Is that the best you've got?_ " 

 _Maybe he had a point about the processing power,_ Tony thought, and went to Phase 2 of testing a full ninety seconds early. He was trying really hard not to be impressed, aware as he was of his own prejudices in KITT's favour… but _damn_ , as they roared through the sky at low transonic speed leaving two entwined trails of fire and a sonic boom in their wake his companion was making it hard for him to do anything other than drop his jaw and stare in totally besotted admiration, alight with pleasure at the performance of the technological marvel his own hands had wrought: a perfectly engineered high performance construct which, in the speed department at least, was leaving him in the dust — for the moment.  

"As a famous man once said," Tony intoned as they rounded the Statue of Liberty, "brother, you ain't seen nothin' yet!" And while KITT might have raw speed on his side he didn't have hundreds of hours of flight experience, so he was evidently caught by surprise when Tony twisted and braked mid-air, forcing the A.I. to follow suit in order to maintain the distance he'd established, then spurted nimbly forward while KITT was still recovering to rap the knuckles of his right hand smartly on the black mirrored chest plate that partially concealed the glow of the Obsidian unit's arc reactor. "Tag! You're it!" 

KITT stared after him as he sprinted away just as quickly. " _I thought you'd had enough of that game back in Utah!_ " 

Tony laughed with wild delight, turning north up the Hudson and putting on a burst of speed that took him from 650 to 900 miles per hour in 2.3 seconds. "I won, didn't I?" 

" _Not this time, you won't!_ " KITT's icon in Tony's heads-up display was gaining ground with terrific speed, and yes, he was faster and more agile in almost every respect — but not as experienced in three dimensional course plotting, not even close. Tony was able to lead him a lightning-fast and highly convoluted chase that covered just about every borough of Manhattan Island — and to avoid the reciprocal touch for three minutes and twelve seconds before he felt, even though the armour, slim black hands closing around his right ankle and locking fast, then the drag as KITT threw the Obsidian unit into sudden reverse. Glancing back, Tony noted with satisfaction that the auxiliary flight stabilizers he'd built into the android were functioning perfectly, the long tapered triangles that now extended from KITT's shoulder blades aglow with white energy along their edges. 

" _Got you!_ " He didn't sound out of breath, of course, but he certainly sounded annoyed. 

"You think so?" He let KITT slow him down by about a hundred miles an hour before providing an object lesson in the form of an easy surge of power that dragged the Obsidian unit effortlessly in his wake. "Because _I_ don't think so, not by a long shot." 

" _Fine._ " Definitely pissed off now, and he wasn't letting go. " _The fact remains that I've caught you — and that if I really wanted to, I could knock out your onboard systems with a point-blank EMP burst._ "  

Midtown was below them again, each block falling away almost too fast to count. "Why don't you give that a try, see how it works out?" 

He didn't expect the damned machine to actually _do_ it, sucking its own battery half dry to produce the pulse — but he also wasn't surprised when the armour's hum faltered for less than a quarter of a second, its internal displays barely flickering. "JARVIS?" 

" _He's down to sixty-eight percent power reserves, sir._ " 

" _Yes,_ " KITT said thoughtfully, no doubt crunching numbers like crazy on his own end, " _an additional expenditure of thirty-six point five percent should do the trick quite nicely. Shall I?_ " 

"Which would leave you dead in the air." Past the southern tip and a sharp turn back toward Wall Street, still hauling the stubborn black figure behind him. 

" _I think you underestimate my determination to win._ " 

"Not to mention that I'd end up crashing into Lower Manhattan at a significant proportion of Mach 1, Kitten — and you wouldn't want that now, would you?" 

" _I really wish you wouldn't call me that — and… I have to concede the point_." His grip tightened briefly. " _Very well. But we both agree that I caught you?_ " 

"And couldn't hold me, but sure, why not?" 

" _Do you really want to escape me that badly?_ " 

Maybe someday he'd get to the point where KITT couldn't bushwhack him with that seductive velvet purr. Today was not the day.

"We'll call it a draw," he managed to rasp through the surge of his arousal (speed and power and mastery all in one sleek sexy package, dear _God_ ), letting his voice be just as husky as it pleased as he dropped speed precipitously, changing course to orient on the gleaming peak of the Chrysler Building. "Now let go of me so we can touch down for a few minutes. I want to show you something." 

KITT, for a wonder, obeyed, and Tony led him to the spire to land on its highest sunlit ledge, which commanded a breathtaking view of New York City cast in intricate forms of light and shadow. For a few seconds he let KITT take in the sight of it, only speaking when the android turned its face toward him with a quizzical tilt of its head. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" 

" _The greatest city in the world, some contend._ " 

"I wouldn't disagree with that assessment." He indicated its grand length with a sweep of his hand. "From the Statue of Liberty to the mean streets of Harlem — this is all yours, KITT, the same way it's mine: it's going to love you, I guarantee it, but even if it turns on you it'll always be your responsibility to protect it. If I'm not around, or if anything happens to me, I expect you to keep doing that job to be the best of your ability." He laid his right hand on the android's angular shoulder and nodded at the slender humanoid form. "That's why I gave you this body, and —" 

" _— and I'm never to forget your words of wit and wisdom?_ " He was still looking intently up at Iron Man's mask, the alien glow of his crystal vision relentlessly scanning back and forth as the red bars of the modulator tracked his voice. " _I spent my entire life before meeting you as a vehicle of justice, quite literally: you don't need to lecture me on my obligation to serve and protect. Those are principles which form the very foundation of my being._ " He shifted a little closer, barely four inches, but the change in distance hit Tony like a hammer as that slim-fingered left hand reached out to come lightly to rest on the waist of his armour, as those sharp tones grew briefly softer: " _You've given me back that purpose, and that's something I'll never be able to repay you for. Yes, Tony, I'll protect this city — I'll protect the whole world, if you ask me to."_ His ruby vision brightened fractionally. " _That's what you built this body to do, isn't it?_ " 

 _I built it so you could be with me._ He didn't actually say those words, but it was a very near thing, even as crazy as it all was: this visceral attraction to a creature who couldn't actually feel his touch in any human sense, who he couldn't even kiss at this moment of profound connection, no matter how badly he wanted to. One day the miracles of science would change that state of affairs if Tony Stark had anything to say about it, and soon.  

At the present moment, however, their physical formats were incompatible, so instead he looked out over the towers of his adopted city, whose skies he would no longer navigate alone, and he patted the android's shoulder before removing his hand and stepping away from its subtle touch. "I know you will, KITT — but tonight the Big Apple is just going to have to do without us. Come on."

" _Where are we going now?_ " 

"Home," Tony smiled as he soared skyward again — but instead of turning north toward Stark Tower he set his face to the west, going transonic in a smooth burst of acceleration that KITT effortlessly replicated. Within seconds New York City was far behind them and vanishing into the darkness of the oncoming dusk they were racing ahead of, with the width of an entire continent before them to traverse on wings even faster than those of the night. 


	9. Interrogation 1

They started hitting serious snowfall south of Lake Erie, and within minutes had rocketed into a zone of near-blizzard conditions to the strains of Richard Wagner's greatest hits. Tony, blazing the flight path for both himself and KITT at two hundred and fifty-two metres altitude and nine hundred miles per hour, wasn't worried — his own armour and KITT's android were designed to function perfectly at much lower temperatures, and even though he expected nothing less he was pleased to note that the Obsidian unit performed flawlessly in this respect as well.  

"Looking good, Pinocchio," he praised as they passed through the eye of the storm's greatest intensity. "Daddy's real  proud of you." 

KITT, who had taken to flying lazy spirals around him again back around Akron, put on a brief burst of speed and executed a more intricate thread-the-needle manoeuvre across Tony's flight path, his graceful form only perceptible in the white-out as a black computer graphic on Tony's heads-up display. " _Why, thank you! In this case the artificial_ ** _is_** _far superior to the real, wouldn't you agree?_ " 

Tony smirked evilly. "Ego much? And maybe in some small respects, but it's also an acquired taste, like a really tart Sicilian olive." 

" _Then may I suggest that you pair me up with a crisp Sauvignon Blanc?_ " KITT countered. 

He shook his head, knowing the suit's microphones would pick up and transmit the tiny rustle of movement to perceptors more than humanly sharp. "No way: it would tame your pungency too much, and that's exactly what I want to savour. How would you feel about a nice cheeky Pinot Noir?" 

" _How… lowbrow._ " 

"You'll elevate it tremendously, trust me." 

" _Hm, yes…"_ His voice, which had been bantering with only a trace of smoulder, abruptly fell to an intimate purr. _"Especially if you pour it over my finish and lick it off — slowly. A slight electrical charge would only alter its flavour profile for the better, I suspect._ " 

 _Jesus._ He hadn't expected that gambit, or the way the clear sensory impression it generated — that ebony gleam as silky as baby skin made even brighter by the sheen of the wine, its uncanny warmth under his slow hands and stroking tongue, the snap and tingle of teasing electricity transmitted directly into his skin through the MBS — flashed through every nerve in his body before settling in his cock with an urgent thickening throb. For a second he actually wavered in flight, the gestural equivalent of almost walking into a door frame. God _damn_ it, he wasn't even sure which of KITT's bodies he was visualizing — and a fraction of a second later he came to the glorious sinking conclusion that it really didn't matter. 

" _I thought that might strike your fancy,_ " KITT said with that smug velvet texture that only heated his synapses up even more, and turned up the volume on his playlist in a way that at least spared Tony the ordeal of having to formulate a coherent reply.  

************************************** 

 _Wie sich die Hertzen_  
 _Wogend erheben!_  
 _Wie alle Sinne_  
 _Wonnig erbeben!_  
 _Sehnender Minne_  
 _Schwellendes Bluhen…_  

" _Sir,_ " JARVIS intoned over the opening phrases of a passionate German rendition of the romantic duet from the end of the first act of _Tristan und Isolde_ , " _you will be crossing the border into Indiana in three… two… one…_ " 

Tony, who had managed to talk his hard-on down to a dull roar somewhere over Columbus, let out a whoop as the graphical depiction of said border in his heads-up display disappeared on the snowy landscape behind them. " _Finally!_ Time for some real music!" 

" _Tony, really — must you?_ " KITT sounded genuinely pained at the prospect. 

He glanced to his right at the ebony humanoid form now flying in tight static formation with him beneath the dry grey clouds, close enough that they could have reached out and held each other's hand. "I've been listening to Wagner for six hundred miles now, babe — fair's fair, and we agreed to alternate playlists every two states." 

A plaintive tone: " _But this duet —_ " 

"— we'll finish it," he smiled indulgently while the voices of the titular lovers soared to greater and greater heights. "But then prepare to have your airwaves well and truly shattered. JARVIS, cue up Flight Mix Twenty-Eight, and start with AC/DC." 

" _Very good, sir._ "  

It wasn't that he hated Wagner in particular — he'd just never cared for opera in general, although the fact that KITT was using this particular piece as another step in their dance of flirtation (albeit a singularly highbrow manoeuvre that smacked of weirdly adorable snobbishness) redeemed it tremendously in Tony's eyes. And when the final tender operatic notes had spun themselves out he made his counter-move, with a raunchy electric guitar solo leading into driving percussion and Brian Johnson's signature rasp: 

 _She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean_  
 _She was the best damn woman that I ever seen —_  
 _She had the sightless eyes, tellin' me no lies,_  
 _And knockin' me out with those American thighs —_  
 _Takin' more than her share, had me fightin' for air,_  
 _She told me to come but I was already there_  
 _'Cause the walls start shakin', the earth was quakin',_  
 _My mind was achin', and we were makin' it and — YOU_  
 _Shook me all night long…_  

" _Charming_ ," KITT said dryly — but he was clearly pleased. 

"Thought you'd appreciate it," Tony grinned, thinking: _Take that, you little cocktease! Wonder if there are any operas down and dirty enough to step things up to the next level, or if you'll have to resort to more —?_  

A beep in his left ear, followed by JARVIS's even tones over the music: " _Sir, you have an incoming call from Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes._ " 

A glance at the suit's chronometer display revealed that indeed, the Obsidian press package had hit the Big Five of both traditional and online media twenty-three minutes ago, and no doubt YouTube footage had been up even longer — which made the officer's call pretty much right on time. "Patch him through," he ordered, and spoke loudly and cheerfully over the blasting music: "Hey, Rhodey! Can we make this quick, I'm kind of —" 

"Tony, what the hell _is_ this shit?" Rhodey sounded like Tony had personally poked him in a highly sensitive area with a very sharp stick. "'Obsidian'? Another suit? Who the hell's inside it? And why didn't you give me a heads-up in advance?" 

"Wellllll, funny thing — it's not technically a suit, because there's no —" 

Another beep, followed by JARVIS sounding almost apologetic. " _An incoming call from Director Nick Fury of —_ " 

"I know where he works, JARVIS." For a couple of seconds he seriously considered pretending to drop Rhodey's call, then decided that this was obviously his night to get double penetrated. "Put him through on the same line. Might as well only say all this once." 

" _Very good, sir._ "  

"Mister Stark." There was no mistaking the steel fist inside that velvet glove. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" 

He couldn't resist tweaking the dragon's tail. "Why, Fury, I have no idea what you —" 

"The identity of that bogey who's following you on the radar feeds would be an excellent start."  

"As I was just saying to Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes — you two have met, right? — anyway, there's a funny story there —" 

Rhodey had obviously sat on something sharp again. "Tony, I think I speak for both of us when I tell you to cut the crap and get to the point. And turn down that damn music!" 

"JARVIS, mute to twenty percent volume. Better?" 

His genial tone obviously didn't fool anybody. "We're waiting," Fury said patiently in a way that immediately told Tony that the fuse of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director's patience was down to its last couple of inches.  

Rhodey didn't even have that much left. "Who is he? He's American, right? God, at least tell me he's domestic!" 

"As American as they come. Straight out of Detroit — well, by way of Southern California." 

Fury stepped in again, the old one-two punch: "In case you've forgotten, as part of the Avenger Initiative you're expected to report any significant operational changes directly to me — and designating a sidekick definitely falls under that heading." 

 _Oh hell_ , Tony thought: in his mind, a clear visualization of a grenade sailed through the air. "He really doesn't like being called that. I mean, _really_ doesn't like it, and he's got quite a temper, so —" 

"So, the person in question is male." He could almost hear Fury making a note. 

"No. Kind of. Look, he's an A.I., I legally own him, and that's all she wrote — but if you ask really nicely, I might be persuaded to loan him out for birthday parties and bar mitzvahs." 

" _Loan me out?_ " Ah, there was KITT, coming in a few beats late but packing a triple helping of indignation. " _What am I, a bicycle that you think you can sell rides on in exchange for a few bubble gum cards and a handful of aggies?_ " 

Tony sighed. "Or, I could just let him tell you himself…" 

"And who, precisely, am I speaking to?" Fury asked in his best oh-so-smooth _I'm not taking any of your shit_ voice. 

KITT was distinctly unimpressed. " _Well, at least you're talking directly to me, which is an improvement over Doctor Banner's behaviour upon meeting me for the first time. Listen, Colonel — both of you — the organization which originally created me rebuffed numerous requests from the military to grant access to my technology, and I see no reason to discontinue a grand old tradition. So unless Mister Stark elects to pass over his files on any projects concerning me, I'm afraid you'll just have to go and bark up some other tree, because I have no interest in talking to you unless it's in connection with a mission I'm assigned to by Mister Stark himself._ " 

Fury's voice was still deadly soft. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has no connection to the United States military, nor to its government. And we know a great deal about you already, if you are who I believe you to be — namely, the artificial intelligence formerly connected with the Knight Industries Two Thousand project." 

" _Then you already know that my designation is KITT — with two "T"s. Be sure you spell it correctly in your reports._ " 

"See?" Tony piped up even more cheerfully. "What'd I tell you? Weapons grade snide!" 

It took a lot more than the verbal equivalent of a flack grenade to divert Nick Fury's attention. "And tell me, KITT, do you consider yourself owned by Mr. Stark in an ethical as well as a legal sense?" 

" _Yes, and I wouldn't permit myself to belong to anybody else._ " Not a fraction of a second's hesitation. " _Which I imagine eliminates a whole subset of the questions you were just about to ask._ " 

"Really? Because I'm not sure you've considered all the ramifications of being owned by this particular individual." 

" _He's an unrepentant womanizer, a borderline alcoholic, and an all-around jackass,"_ KITT said flatly. _"If you have any other revelations to impart, by all means trot them out — but I'll warn you right now that I'm likely to slot any accusations you may make into one of those three pre-existing categories._ " 

"Ow," Tony winced, although his heart was leaping in his breast and singing an aria of its own. "Definitely not as much fun to listen to when I'm the one getting fragged." 

A third beep, and a heads-up tag line which indicated that JARVIS was speaking for Tony's ears alone: " _Sir, Colonel Rhodes is calling in from another mobile device. He's requesting a private channel._ " 

"Give it to him," Tony ordered, and left KITT to his fencing match with Fury by minimizing that conversation to a background murmur while he dealt with his old friend: "Rhodey! Again! Wow, I'm the most popular girl at the ball this evening!"

"Are you out of your mind, Tony?" It was a low hiss, even though he'd asked for a channel that the S.H.I.E.L.D. director wouldn't overhear. "You put a _machine_ in charge of that suit? We've all seen how well that works out!" 

"You weren't listening, were you? It's an android, not a suit, and KITT's not 'in charge of' it — while he's inside its systems, he _is_ the android. But to address the point you were trying to make, he's not like any other program on the face of the planet: he's achieved an unprecedented level of A.I. complexity — sorry, JARVIS —"

" _I'm deeply hurt, of course, but I bow to your superior judgement_." 

"— although as you can see he's clearly got some serious competition in the 'smart-ass' category," Tony quipped. "Look, I wouldn't have given him the android body if I didn't trust him with my life, which I do, without any reservations whatsoever." 

"Do you really want the Senate Armed Services Committee on your ass all over again?" Rhodey demanded, not appeased in the least. "Because this is going to bring them down like chum brings sharks!" 

Tony rolled his eyes. "God, who died and made you the world's most Nervous Nelly? I handled them before — I can handle them again." 

"What's to stop them from filing an injunction demanding you turn over the android _and_ the A.I.?" 

"Legal precedent. They couldn't take the suit, remember? Also, I'm pretty damned sure KITT would have something to say about that, and believe me, they'd find him mighty hard to catch if he didn't want to get caught." _And he's mine. Did I mention that he's_ ** _mine_** _? Completely mine, he just said so himself, and I'd fight Heaven and Earth and all the demons in Hell to keep him now._  

A pause full of tumultuous dismay — but it was followed by a sigh both exasperated and resigned. "You're absolutely bug-fuck crazy, you know that, right?" 

"Completely ridiculous. I'm perfectly sane, right, JARVIS?" 

" _That's a debatable proposition to say the least, sir_." 

On the muted channel, Tony could hear Fury and KITT going at it hammer and tongs while he continued: "And besides, when have I ever steered you wrong?" 

"Oh hell, where do I even start? How about that time in Chechnya when —?" 

"Rhetorical questions aren't meant to be answered, Rhodey. What kind of crap do they teach in the OCS these days, anyway? 

"I don't need OCS training to tell me when I smell a big steaming pile of bullshit." Another beat, and when he spoke again he sounded a bit calmer. "I want the complete stats on this Obsidian android on my desk yesterday." 

Tony shook his head. "I can't give you that." 

"Then can you at least give me something more substantial than that puff piece you sent to the talking heads?" 

"Oh, absolutely. JARVIS, send the Colonel that project file I prepared for him, won't you?" 

" _Done, sir._ " 

"You son of a bitch," Rhodey accused, but Tony could hear the amused quirk that cornered his mouth. 

"I prefer to characterize myself as a high toned low riding bastard  — but hey, po-tay-to, po-tah-to, right?" 

In the background he heard Fury say: "JARVIS, put him back on the line _now_." 

"Always a pleasure, Rhodey." He severed the mobile connection with a flick of his gaze. "JARVIS, send Fury his project folder and put him through." Then, in a soothing croon: "Peace, big guy — I'm sending you the Obsidian stats right now. KITT, he didn't ride you too hard, did he?" 

Fury interjected before KITT could reply: "I'm coming to see you both tomorrow afternoon at three p.m." A significant pause. "And don't even _think_ about leaving California until we've spoken face to face." 

"Sounds great! I'll have JARVIS put on a lasagna and whip up a salad. We'll have a couple of glasses of wine, play some —" 

"And Mister Stark?" 

"Yes, Director Fury?" 

"I advise you to stock up on lube, because you're going to need it." Before Tony could even open his mouth to reply the line indicator on his display went blue: Fury had hung up on him. 

" _Tony?_ " KITT asked tentatively after a couple of seconds. 

Tony beamed. "Isn't he a charmer? Just wait until you meet him in person!" 

The A.I.'s trepidation audibly deepened, although he was trying to put a brave face on it. " _You wouldn't let them take me away from you… would you?_ "  

His heart did a absurd slow flip in his chest, a ferocious desire to protect clashing with a melting tenderness that was as disturbing as it was unexpected. The combination made his voice gruffer than usual: "Don't you worry your pretty little processor about that — the only person who'll be getting behind your wheel for the next few decades is me, full stop. How do you feel about KISS?" 

" _I —_ " That had caught him by surprise. " _The rock band? Marginally better than I do about AC/DC, I suppose._ " 

"Glad to hear it. JARVIS, take us back up — full volume." He put on an extra burst of speed which KITT easily matched, chasing the unseen sunset while Paul Stanley wailed ecstatically about angels flying and fire in the heavens. 


	10. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Barbayat for their assistance in finding a suitable last name for a professional party girl with BDSM tendencies.

"Sorry I left you to Fury's tender mercies back there," Tony remarked, leaning back with his gauntleted right hand on the flat concrete surface while propping his left elbow on his armoured and bent left knee, "but I was pretty sure you could stand your own ground while I put out the wildfire in Rhodey's ass." 

KITT shrugged, an elegant flex of perfectly lubricated shoulders. " _It wasn't the first time I've had to tell someone — more or less politely — that my specs are none of their damned business._ " 

"Language!" Tony chided, and now that his faceplate was up he could give KITT the full force of a stern look from beneath lowered eyebrows. 

" _Oh, please — have you listened to yourself when you're fighting with a particularly recalcitrant piece of technology? Some men work in oils, and some in clay, but I strongly suspect that profanity is_ ** _your_** _true medium._ " 

"I don't —" 

" _In fact, I specifically remember you calling this very body a 'jacked-up, cock-sucking, ass-fucking scrofulous bitch with delusions of —'_ " 

Tony, who'd started to take a sip from the canned drink he held in his left hand, almost spat it right back out again. " _Jesus_ , KITT!" 

" _Would you like me to put together a Greatest Hits compilation for you?"_ KITT offered without missing a beat. _"I have plenty of material, believe me._ "

 He swallowed hard, then sat up quickly and used his right forefinger to wipe a droplet of Pepsi off his chin while glaring accusingly. "JARVIS put you up to this, didn't he?" 

" _He might have suggested that I listen in during your late night building sessions."_ KITT couldn't physically smile, but he didn't need that ability when his voice was so nimble and expressive. _"I must say the results were highly entertaining._ " 

Tony was pretty sure that he should have been incensed at that revelation, but given the surroundings and the company he honestly couldn't work up as much of a mad-on as the two uppity A.I.s probably deserved. He and KITT had managed to catch the sunset at last: they were currently sitting on the edge of his Malibu mansion's most outthrust roof, watching the sun sinking red and gold into a burnished ocean, and Tony had been telling himself sternly for the past ten minutes that this did n _ot_ feel like a date, uh-uh, no way, not even if KITT had crossed his legs at the ankles in a way that was somehow startlingly feminine and was idly swinging his neatly booted feet forward and back over the precipitous drop, leaning back on his open ebony hands while his crystal gaze took in the expanse of water and sky.  

" _Shall I change the subject?_ " KITT asked, the ruby facets of his scanner slit gleaming brightly as a point of fire tracked back and forth within them.  

"Please," Tony muttered, trying again to generate a head of indignant steam and conspicuously failing. 

 _"Then may I say what a magnificent setting this is for a house?_ " Openly admiring now, slowly turning his head to take in the full sweep of the horizon.  

Tony nodded, tearing his gaze away from the exquisite lines of the android's throat armour for a glance over the glorious vista of nature, and trying to sound casual. "Thanks. I like it." 

He cocked his head in Tony's direction. " _I am curious, though… why did you bring me here?_ " 

"We'll be conducting your weapons test tomorrow morning out in the Mojave Desert, so we had to be in this neck of the woods anyway." KITT nodded, and something compelled Tony to add: "Besides, you belong to me, right? I had to bring you home sooner or later." 

KITT lowered his chin, and there was _no way in hell_ that he meant it to be that coy. The teasing note, however, was unmistakeable. " _I see. And is this where you keep all your important things?_ " 

He couldn't help a rueful half-smile as he let his gaze linger on the robot's slim gleaming lines. "Only the most beautiful ones." 

" _Our car isn't here,_ " KITT pointed out. 

"I'm having a copy made." He wasn't — yet — but by eight a.m. tomorrow morning he certainly would be. "Ditto on the android." 

KITT didn't have eyes to focus on any particular part of Tony's body, but he nonetheless felt — or imagined he could feel — that alien gaze tracking over him from helmet to boots in a way that was warmly palpable even through his armour. " _I suppose I should be flattered that you're spending so much time and money on me._ " 

Curious turn of phrase there. Now it was his turn to cock his head. "But… you're not." 

He was silent for a long moment, turning his face toward the water. " _Do you know, I was never apart from Michael for more than three days at a time in all the years we were together? And whenever he had to leave I felt like more than half of myself had been torn away from me. When he died… I thought I'd never be whole again, quite apart from the guilt of having caused his death."_ He lowered his chin almost to his breastplate, speaking softly but with an undercurrent of pure steel: _"I don't want you to send me halfway around the world and leave me there, away from you, for weeks or months at a time. That's not how I'm designed to function. Oh, I could do it, and I'd be damned good at it — but I'd be a very long way from fulfilled._ " 

There it was again, that odd melting tug in the vicinity of his heart that had nothing to do with electromagnetics. He infused his voice with a degree of conviction that frightened him a little, it was so rare in its intensity: "That's not going to happen, KITT. That's why I'm having copies made: so that you can be with me wherever I go." The rueful little grin was back. "There's no way I can outrun you, right? And when you have bodies all over the globe to download yourself into you'll aways be able to get places faster than I can, even with this suit." 

" _Unless you_ ** _wanted_** _to run away from me."_ He sounded almost painfully contemplative. _"If you did, I would shut myself down and —_ " 

"No." He shook his head, then put aside the drink can to turn his undivided attention to his companion. "That's not going to happen either. You said it yourself: I can estimate the value of things beyond their cost in dollars and cents, and…" 

 _You're worth more to me than my whole fortune could buy, you infuriating impossible creature that I should own completely just by virtue of having the paperwork, but I can't because you're free in a way that legalities can't touch… and you gave yourself to me anyway. You put yourself in my hands, and oh God, I can only pray that one day you won't come to the conclusion that it was the biggest mistake you ever made._  

"I want you to promise me something, KITT." It was always hard for him to talk to people without putting up a screen of clever words between himself and his target, but he made a conscious effort to strip away the smoke and mirrors, just for the next few sentences. "There are going to be times when I'll be a raging asshole —" 

His head swivelled round, non-existent eyebrows shooting upward. " _There_ ** _will_** _be times?_ " 

He reached out to lay his left hand to KITT's right cheek and press his power-gloved thumb to the voice modulator, as if forestalling the words on a pair of human lips. "Hush," he said sternly, and KITT fell a dubious quality of silent. "Where was I? Oh yeah, asshole. And times when I'll be angry as hell for no good reason. There'll be times when I'll do everything in my power to push you away. There'll be times —" He had to swallow a lump of emotion in his throat. "There'll be times when I'll hurt you. But don't you _ever_ let go, okay? Because I promise you, I'll make it up to you like crazy when I come back to my senses again." And he stroked his thumb back toward his hand, tacitly granting permission to speak again. 

After a moment of silent consideration KITT turned his head slightly, pressing his cheek to Tony's palm. " _You_ ** _are_** _an award-winning jackass, there's no question about that,"_ he mused. _"But there's also something about you that makes others unshakeably loyal to you, and they're not even imprinted on you._ ** _I_** _am. Do you really think there's anything you could possibly do that would convince me to abandon you?_ " 

"I'm glad to hear it." And he was, so happy that the swelling of his heart threatened to choke his voice. He couldn't very well say _Because there are three people in this world I can't live without now: Pepper Potts, JARVIS, and you_ , so he gazed for one heart stopping moment longer before patting KITT's contoured cheek gently and withdrawing his hand to rise to his feet. "Come on, let me show you what's inside. I need to get out of this suit and get myself wrapped around a good stiff drink, and then we'll enable your permanent uplink to JARVIS." 

KITT unfolded himself to his full height in an efficient mathematical symphony of expanding angles and shallow curves. " _I'd like that very much. We've already been communicating a great deal, but it's entirely different when —_ " 

He paused in the act of turning in Tony's direction, swivelling his head sharply toward the rear of the mansion. Tony, about to fire up his thrusters and soar skyward, paused as well, and after a couple of seconds asked: "What?" 

" _You have company,_ " KITT said, at precisely the same instant that JARVIS announced in Tony's ear: " _Sir, a car is approaching on the main road — a hot pink 2012 Porsche Carrera, license number CANDY1._ " 

The set of associations that string of information provoked in Tony's memory — big blue eyes, a mane of silky honey blonde hair, fur-lined handcuffs, black lace on sweat — instantly brought him to half-attention inside his codpiece. His first thought was: _All_ ** _right_** _, gonna be a hot time in the old town tonight!_ The second thought that came screaming in hard on its heels was: _A woman is_ ** _not_** _exactly what I'm in the mood for right now, no matter how flexible and inventive she is._ And the third thought, slamming into them both from behind and creating a horrible tangle of conflicting motivations, was: _I slept with girls more than a few times during that road trip — hell, in one case with a set of identical twins! — and KITT didn't seem to give a flying fuck about it then. So what the hell's the problem?_  

The problem was that now that KITT was standing at his side, lithe and beautiful and maybe a little more human than he had any right to be, what Tony's body wanted to do with the occupant of that Porsche felt uncomfortably close to cheating. Which was completely crazy, because he hadn't said word one to KITT about exclusivity — or about being in some kind of relationship at all, or whatever this thing they had was — and KITT wasn't even organic, for fuck's sake, so the part of Tony's mind that was yammering about love and commitment was so far out in left field that it was practically on another planet, an alien world called _What The Hell Are You Thinking, Tony Stark? And Since When Did You Ever Give a Shit About Being Faithful To Anybody?_  

"Name, JARVIS." His brain finally kicked back into gear and he shot up over the mansion's roof, heading for the curving driveway that fronted the glass-enclosed main entryway. "I need a name." 

" _Miss Candy Caine, sir._ " 

"Right. Thanks." Of course, Candy of the porn star career and light BDSM tendencies and breasts that should be enshrined in the fucking Louvre. He was aware that KITT had followed him, but his attention was on the car, which glowed like a seventy-five thousand dollar bubblegum nightmare as it sped up the road toward them.  

" _Candy_ ** _Caine_** _?_ " KITT repeated as he touched down at Tony's right shoulder, in a tone of incredulous disbelief. " _He's joking, right? Please, tell me he's joking._ " 

"Trust me," Tony said distractedly, still trying to sort out the motivational train wreck in his head and in parts further south, "when you look the way she does, you could call yourself Smuckers Grape Jelly and guys would still be falling all over themselves to buy you diamond rings and mink coats." 

" _And_ ** _that_** _car?"_ KITT audibly curled the upper lip he entirely lacked. _"Because that car is an utter travesty of automotive —_ " 

Tony shrugged. "I can overlook questionable taste when it comes attached to booty that smokin' hot."  

The android cocked his head, his tone growing even more tart: " _I'll take your word for it._ " 

"Hey, you think _my_ booty is smokin' hot, right?" He had to get a better fix on where he stood. He _had_ to, because Candy was going to be on top of him in about five seconds. "That's why you put up with me, even though I'm a womanizer and an alcoholic and an all-around jerk?" 

" _You're mine,_ " KITT said with such stunning simplicity that Tony's heart felt as if he'd just stalled out at twenty thousand feet and started on the express elevator back to terra firma. " _And that means taking the marvellously good with the occasionally bad — up to and including aesthetically challenged trollops._ "  

He opened his mouth again, wanting to say _Fill me in some more concerning this 'You're mine' part, will you?_ , but the Porsche had just swung to a stop in front of them and Candy Caine, clad in a skin-tight red miniskirt dress and a gold choker with an cabochon cut blue star sapphire nestled in the perfect hollow of her perfect throat, came leaping out of her utterly tasteless car and threw herself on Tony with an ecstatic little squeal, standing on her tiptoes to pull his head down and give him a slow, thorough, utterly shameless kiss.  

"Heyyyyy, Tony," she purred when their lips parted, winding her left arm around the neck of his armour and running her right forefinger teasingly up and down his exposed cheek. "Welcome back!" 

"It's, ah…" KITT was right there. _Right there_ less than a foot away, like a statue, gazing and saying nothing. "It's good to be back. Really good. How, ah… how are you?" 

"I'm good." Her smile suggested that she was a lot more than good, she was _absolutely fucking fantastic,_ thank you very much. Tony's balls remembered the last time he'd seen that smile, and they tightened in sweet anticipation. "I saw you were in LA a couple of hours ago, so I figured you'd be coming here eventually. I'm glad to see I was right." 

He grinned back with genuine zest, remembering now that Candy was a bit more than just a pretty face. "Y'know, I was considering telling that news helicopter to fuck off, but I'm glad now that I didn't." 

Candy giggled winningly, pressed another melting kiss to Tony's mouth, then turned her bright eyes and brilliant coy smile on KITT. "Who's your silent friend?" 

The android moved for the first time since she'd pulled up, bowing with old world courtesy and speaking in a formal style that Tony had never heard from him before: " _My designation is Obsidian, Miss Caine. I work for Mister Stark. And I was just about to take my leave._ " 

"I —" Tony found himself doing a double take composed of equal parts confusion, dismay, and relief. "What?" 

KITT was still addressing Candy: _"I used to work in Los Angeles, you see, but it's been a very long time since I've had the opportunity to visit it. Mister Stark was kind enough to take me on a quick tour of the city earlier this afternoon and I was hoping to get the opportunity to reacquaint myself with its changes in more detail._ " His raised his chin and turned his head just enough to suggest that he was now looking at Tony, and the point of light in his scanner paused two facets from his left, flashed twice, then resumed tracking. 

 _Did he just wink at me?_  

Candy, still draped against the front of Tony's armour, looked KITT up and down with keener interest. "You're not real, are you?" 

" _I'm entirely real,_ " KITT responded at once. " _I am, however, certainly not human. Now, if that will be all, Mister Stark…?_ " 

"Uh." When had this conversation gotten entirely away from him? "Uh, yes, thank you. Dismissed." 

KITT inclined his chin one final time, straightened, turned his faceplate skyward and activated his repulsors. As he soared toward the streaks of sunset cloud, already turning south, two pairs of human eyes followed his progress. 

"So," Candy said thoughtfully, "he's like JARVIS, right?" 

"Yes," Tony said, watching his independent A.I.'s trail of fire fading into the distance, because that was the quickest answer and he suddenly found that he really didn't want to talk about it. He'd had more than enough emotional honesty for one day — maybe for a whole month, if he was lucky. 

 _You're mine… and I wouldn't permit myself to belong to anybody else…_  

When Candy leaned up to whisper against the edge of the armour closest to his left ear — "I brought the handcuffs!" — he threw himself into the the warm and willing and distinctly kinky distraction she offered with no more than a second's hesitation. 


	11. Calculation

In Candy's arms — and cuffs — Tony managed to find about forty minutes of raunchy thrills and purely physical absorption: sweet skin like honey, lips like brandy, sugar-slice nails raking brightly down his torso and every intimate part of him, the hot centre of her melting against his mouth and around his cock like milky chocolate. He turned off his higher brain functions and let himself become reaction to her action: sighs, moans, animal grunts, hard mindless thrusting. And hey, he was the one being restrained and ordered around so he could even lay aside the burden of being in control of this little session.  

And Candy got a good hard fucking (well, mostly self-fucking) on the legendary penis of Tony Stark, so it was a win/win situation for everybody concerned. 

But before the last tingles of orgasm had even fully faded his cerebral cortex came back online: _Hi, Tony, did you miss me? We've gotta talk, Big Guy — we've got a_ ** _lot_** _to discuss._ And as he lay flat on his back in the afterglow with sweat still cooling on his skin and an insanely hot woman draped languorously over his right side, tracing the rim of his arc reactor and still whispering sweet nothings in his ear about how _fantastic_ was, about how he was _the best_ … he realized that his right hand, as it followed the perfect curve of her side, wanted to be touching something entirely different. 

Something with tart wine poured over its ebony silk, maybe, and —

  _No! Bad Tony! Crazy thoughts!_ He whacked them on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper and banished them to the furthest corner of his mind, choosing to use their sizzling energy to roll Candy over and press her back into the pillows instead. 

Her giggle became a kittenish growl. "Tony… again already?" 

"What can I say, baby?" He pinned her wrists beside her head and started laying a line of kisses down her too-white throat from ear to shoulder, throwing himself into the taste and the softness of her all over again. "You inspire me." 

This time he was the aggressive one, which seemed to suit her just fine if her moans and writhing were any indication. That was good for killing another twenty minutes, and when it was all over, her pussy even wetter with what had been left of the contents of his balls, sleep hit him like a ton of bricks and he fell into the embrace of darkness without even asking her if it had been good for her too.  

Sleep without dreams, thank God. But when he woke up sometime in the night with his bedmate spooned up against his back and pale moonlight shining beyond the wall of windows overlooking the Pacific, he stared out at the magnificent view that KITT had approved of and realized instantly that his cerebral cortex wasn't going to leave him alone this time: in fact, it was already clocking along at a tremendous rate of speed in cascades of numbers and symbols… 

… and getting absolutely nowhere. Because no matter which way he worked the equation, math genius though he was, the elements resolutely refused to add up the way he wanted them to. 

Hell, when it came to KITT he couldn't even seem to decide whether to apply abstract algebra or differential calculus. On the face of it the A.I. should have broken down to a set of clearly defined elements which, although there were a helluva lot of them, existed in set relationships — functionally, a straight line. Instead the damned thing was a tangle of interweaving sine waves, influencing each other gravitationally and constantly changing direction and velocity — not unlike the way Iron Man and Obsidian related in flight. It was JARVIS taken to an exponentially higher level of functional complexity, and it was impossible to predict exactly what KITT was going to think, say, or do next. 

Well, within certain limits. He was Asimoved, after all, but maybe even that was off the table considering that following his base programming had led to the death of his first pilot.  

 _Would he die for me?_ That was elementary algebra with a clear solution: yes, without hesitation. No trace of doubt there. 

 _Would he kill for me?_ And that's where things went spinning off into the realm of multiple layered composite functions, because the range of KITT's function was contained within the domain of Tony's function to an unknown degree: mirror images of variables whose precise value was still unclear, and perhaps always would be. And that was really burning Tony's ass, because as a scientist and as a superhero he lived and died by exactitude, not by fuzzy concepts like fidelity and loyalty and love. 

Human beings were undependable. Machines were, by definition, completely dependable — if they'd been properly designed. Which made KITT either the worst engineering botch-job ever or a work of genius on par with the _Mona Lisa_. 

 _So what solution_ ** _are_** _you looking for, Tony?_ He watched sparkles of moonlight glide over the endlessly shifting sea, idly calculating their rhythms as he obsessively chewed that question over. _How do you want things to add up? Or do you want them to add up at all? You can't figure him out, and that drives you crazy, but it's also what you —_  

No! He was _not_ going there. That was one variable that could remain undefined forever as far as he was concerned. 

 _He loves you — or at least that's the most likely value for his part of your composite function. Do the math, Tony, and take whatever the equation produces. Numbers don't lie, right?_  

"It's not _about_ numbers," he muttered into the pillow, "it's fucking _calculus_ ," and closed his eyes tight until all his thoughts faded to black again.

************************************** 

" _Sir._ " 

He grumbled and shifted irritably and screwed his eyes tighter shut, soaking in the warmth of a woman's back pressed against his own. "Sleeping…" 

" _Sir, you need to wake up._ " 

He cracked one eye open to peer at the sky beyond the windows — no moon in the west yet — then squeezed it closed again and let his resentment infuse his growl: "JARVIS, what's the rule? No. Interrupting. The afterglow." 

" _Sir, Headline News is reporting on a car chase in Los Angeles, and you really need to see the footage —_ ** _now_** _._ " 

He heard a video window spring into existence three feet in front of him just before a female announcer's voice filled the bedroom, practically vibrating with the urgent prurient eagerness that particular network encouraged in its commentators when something bad was going down: "— definitely _not_ Iron Man, and in fact it looks like the mysterious figure sighted with —" 

Another voice, male, almost yelling: "If they kill the other hostage or use the rocket launcher again, that's not going to —" 

Adrenaline crashed through Tony's body like an ice-cold wave, opening his eyes in a savage blaze, and he was out of the bed before he was even consciously aware that he was moving. He was halfway to the stairs before Candy's sleepy voice protested from behind him: "Babe…?" 

"Stay here," he snapped back over his shoulder, his full attention on the video window that had swung around in front of him and was keeping pace with him at that same three foot distance. What it showed — two talking heads framing a central image of a dark blue SUV speeding down what looked to be Wilshire Boulevard, weaving in and out of traffic , footage clearly shot from a news copter — didn't convey enough information. "JARVIS, what the fuck's going on?" 

Before JARVIS could reply, the image changed in a way that told Tony exactly what he needed to know. 


	12. Orientation

Tony stared in disbelief as the SUV — a Ford Edge, big and broad as a linebacker — powered up behind a white van and swerved around it hard, a sharp right turn that shouldered into the next lane over and smashed aside a Ford Fiesta like a baseball bat taking out a pinata. The crumpled vehicle started to spin out, jumping the curb straight toward a crowd of loiterers outside a nightclub, who had no hope in hell of getting out of the way in time —  

" _Whoa!_ " the male talking head shouted, as a streak of pure blackness on a trail of fire arrowed into the news copter's field of vision and latched onto the side of the Fiesta with slender fingers that easily shattered its tan hide and locked around its steel substructure, digging in his heels and dragging it to an abrupt halt less than a metre and a half shy of the nearest pedestrian as the Edge roared on. "Did you see that?" 

He hadn't even finished the sentence before KITT was moving again, firing his thrusters to swing around the now-stopped subcompact in pursuit of the Edge. Tony was hurling down the stairs toward the ground floor of his mansion, and JARVIS was calmly explaining: " _The precise nature of the situation has not been fully divulged, but an armoured Brinks truck has been hijacked by persons unknown and at least two accomplice vehicles are involved._ " 

"Shit!" He skidded around the corner of the first level and all but threw himself down the second set of stairs. "Did that guy say 'hostages'?" 

" _Indeed, sir — at least one Brinks guard, with another dead at the scene of the truck's abduction._ " 

"God _damn_ it! Who the hell told him he was cleared for combat? _Fuck!_ " It wasn't like any conventional weaponry could take down the Obsidian android, but KITT's ability to handle the rapidly shifting variables in an actual battle scenario was completely untested and the last thing, the absolute _last_ thing Tony needed was the publicity nightmare of having Obsidian fuck things up spectacularly with Headline News covering every second of the failure. 

JARVIS wisely did not reply. On the HLN feed, KITT had not been idle: the news copter was following his course as he skimmed along the blacktop at bumper level, bright points of light flashing out of his opened shoulder greaves to race ahead of him and impact the tires of the Edge, all of which exploded and sent their rims crashing onto the road surface. It juddered to a grinding halt, smoke pouring from its wheel wells, and a quarter of a second later KITT was on top of it, swooping into an upright position beside it and thrusting out his right hand, palm oriented on the car's interior. Someone was already starting to get out of the rear of the vehicle, heaving a rocket-propelled grenade launcher onto his shoulder in preparation to fire, but Tony wasn't surprised to see him suddenly stumble and collapse, undoubtedly along with everybody else within range of the android's invisible ultrasound blast.  

" _KITT has now disabled both accomplice vehicles reported by the media,_ " JARVIS supplied. 

Tony's urge to yell _Get him on the line_ ** _now_** _!_ clashed savagely with his awareness that distracting KITT at this moment would probably be a very bad idea; the result was a strangled howl deep in his throat as he hit the bottom of the staircase and JARVIS automatically unlocked the laboratory door for him to tear open. The screen phased through the physical obstructions as if they didn't exist, showing KITT leaping into flight, this time soaring high above the traffic before locking onto his next target and rocketing after the Brinks truck, huge and grey, which had hit a jam of traffic at a red light that it had obviously smashed its way through; it was just starting to pick up speed again, hauling ass around the corner of the intersection onto a marginally less populated street, leaving a tangle of broken cars in its wake. 

The talking heads had disappeared in favour of providing maximum screen real estate for the video, but the female commentator had continued narrating throughout: "This is coming to you live from Los Angeles, where a hijacked Brinks armoured truck is leading police on a high-speed chase through Beverly Hills. The vehicle has just turned north off Wiltshire Boulevard onto North Doheny Drive, in an attempt to outrun both police and the mysterious —" 

KITT had already shot over the mess of stopped traffic, now almost on the truck's tail at ten metres up and deploying more microgrenades — which impacted the tires with no appreciable effect. Of course not: this wasn't your ordinary money-and-coin pickup, Tony could tell that just from the configuration of the vehicle being used. Whatever it was transporting warranted that extra level or ten of protection, and he knew that although KITT was probably trying to microlock its engine that trick wasn't going to work either.  

"Suit!" he yelled, sprinting for the platform — and JARVIS, like a good butler, was already two steps ahead of him, opening and unfolding and deploying.  

"— individual who — this just in, the mystery man who may in fact not be —" 

Tony hit the platform's centre and assumed the position, his glare fixed on the video window as JARVIS began to assemble Iron Man around his naked body. 

The rear doors of the truck burst open, swinging wildly as the vehicle swerved around a slower car in its way. 

"— a man at all, but rather an android created by —" 

A puff of hot red smoke from the truck's interior.  

"— Stark Industries —" 

A streak of fire racing upward to intercept its pursuer, and an explosion consistent with an RPG-7 packing PG-7VR ammo: not even enough to scratch KITT's paint. Deep inside Tony's gut, one razor-sharp wire of the tension screaming in his core let go with a sigh of fierce relief. 

"— and code named Obsidian —" 

KITT blew through the fireball like it wasn't even there, extending his hand to deliver another ultrasound blast — 

— when a male in combat fatigues appeared in the doorway, dragging a smaller figure in a dark blue uniform and holding that figure in place right at the very edge, within a couple of inches of tumbling onto the roadway speeding past below: a female Brinks guard with both hands secured behind her back, the other hostage. Combat Fatigues had an arm locked around her throat and the muzzle of a gun pressed to her head, and he was pretty clearly screaming something at the ebony figure flying overhead. 

 _Oh Jesus_ , Tony thought. "JARVIS —" 

" _I'm proceeding as quickly as safety will permit, sir._ " 

 _Don't use the ultrasound — if you do, inertia will send them smashing onto the road like two cartons of eggs!_ Gauntlets and boots on, torso and leg armour assembling, and although he'd never shown a shred of telepathic ability he tried to force it into manifestation now: _Think fast, Kitten, and for God's sake don't —!_  

And just like that, KITT was gone. Vanished, leaving only the fleeting impression of a gleam of sideways motion behind. 

The male commentator was saying: "— the press package that — whoa, where did he go?" 

A question that was on Tony's mind as well, as the last body pieces locked into place and JARVIS assembled the helmet around him, transferring the HLN feed to its heads-up display as the faceplate closed. Combat Fatigues was still poised on the edge, scanning the sky and the roadway with his hostage trembling only inches from certain death.  

" _Good luck, sir,_ " JARVIS said as Tony blasted off the platform and up the curved entryway, calculating the time to Los Angeles and knowing that by the time he could get there, even at top speed, everything would be — 

He almost missed it again this time, a blur of blackness shooting across the roadway from the truck's right, using two other cars driving almost alongside it as cover for its nearly ground level approach before sliding under the truck's wheelbase at an angle that neither the driver nor Combat Fatigues could see. The whole vehicle lurched, almost sending Combat Fatigues and his prisoner flying exactly as Tony had feared, forcing the hijacker to throw his gun arm out to maintain his balance —  

— and then he threw her. Or maybe he dropped her. In the end it didn't matter, because she was less than a second away from becoming road pizza and there wasn't a damned thing Tony could do about it but watch. 

He watched, all right. As he exploded into the sky above Malibu and immediately turned south he watched KITT flash past the hijacker, throwing him back into the shadowed interior of the Brinks truck with a contemptuous flick of one hand, and he watched KITT swoop like a swallow and scoop the hostage up in both arms just before she hit the pavement, soaring up and away from the weaving vehicle which was already slowing dramatically, spitting sparks and oil from its undercarriage while the male commentator babbled: "I don't — what _was_ that, Terry? Did he just — what did he _do?_ " 

Tony knew: KITT, slim as a blade, had arrowed underneath the truck and punched up through its underbelly, breaking its drive train in the process and moving decisively to preserve human life. He'd killed two birds with one efficient stone, and as the news copter pulled back its telephoto view to include the wider street around the almost stopped truck he saw the android touch down lightly on the nearby sidewalk, setting the Brinks guard carefully on her feet and stepping behind her to break whatever was binding her hands — a pair of handcuffs, to judge by the gleam of metal circlets that fell at their feet. 

And then she spun round and threw her arms around his neck while a crowd of pedestrians started to gather, and Tony would be damned if she didn't try to kiss him, even though he entirely lacked a shape approximating a mouth. Which was fine. Iron Man had received more than a few 'thank you's along those lines himself, after all. Perfectly cool, but he was still pleased to see that KITT promptly reached up to disengage her arms and put her firmly away from him, while all around him people were obviously taking cell phone pictures like crazy. 

"— definitely Obsidian!" The female talking head was back on the left hand side of the screen, with an expression that suggested she felt she should win this year's Pulitzer Prize for investigative journalism. "An android released earlier today by Stark Industries, which was seen in the presence of Iron Man earlier this afternoon, flying over —" 

Police were rapidly converging on the stalled truck a quarter block away, SWAT team members swarming into it and hauling the driver out of the cabin. Okay, crisis over — now it was time for Tony to kick some ass. "JARVIS, patch me through to — oh _hell_ no!" 

" _Sir?_ " JARVIS queried. 

Tony peered at the HLN video feed. "Is that a news van pulling up? Tell me that's not a —" 

" _KABC, I believe._ " 

"Patch me through to KITT _now!_ " 

" _Right away, sir._ " 

On the screen, KITT was apparently still speaking to the security guard, his voice modulator flashing and his hands bracing her upper arms because she looked like she was about to faint. Then he looked up and cocked his head as if listening, and a second later his snarky Boston accent quipped in Tony's headpiece, this time minus the modulator accompanyment: " _Ah, Tony! I was expecting to hear from you sooner than —_ " 

The sum of his profound displeasure at being spurred out of bed into a dead run, his apprehension that Obsidian would fuck things up publicly, and his fear that KITT could somehow be damaged burst out in a roar: "Who the hell gave you permission to go live?"  

" _You're welcome,_ " KITT said wryly. " _And when I picked up police transmissions about the theft of a Brinks truck carrying ten kilos of gold pressed iridium, was I really supposed to just —_ " 

"You were supposed to call it in and wait for —" 

" _Hang on a moment, would you?_ " On screen, a guy in a sports jacket pursued by a cameraman had piled out of the KABC van and strode up to KITT, obviously excited and asking questions.  

"No!" Tony's voice hit a new pitch of outrage. " _No!_ Do _not_ give an interview!" 

The reporter was gesturing eagerly. KITT nodded, once. 

"Jesus _fuck!_ " Tony howled, and tried to squeeze another few miles per hour out of his armour's thrusters. "I swear to God, KITT, when I get there I'm going to —" 

" _Picking up the KABC live broadcast,_ " JARVIS announced, and a second window appeared under the HLN feed, which JARVIS muted in order to let Tony hear the newest story clearly. 

Which didn't prevent him from wrapping up his threat with relish: "— rip out your circuit boards with my _teeth!_ " 

"— absolutely incredible!" the field reporter was blathering, as two paramedics bustled up and KITT handed the security guard off to them, giving her hand a final reassuring squeeze before letting go of her. "Without your intervention, this chase could have resulted in much more property damage and the loss of many more lives! The public wants to know who you are, and what —" 

"My _teeth_ , KITT!" Tony growled. "And maybe a rusty screwdriver, if you're lucky!" 

" _I'm afraid,_ " KITT was telling his interrogator clearly and firmly, " _that I can't answer any questions at this time — you'll have to get in touch with Stark Industries for any information you require in addition to what was provided in your press packages._ " A pause as he turned to look directly into the camera, lifting his pointed chin proudly. " _What I can tell you, however, is that this rescue was brought to you courtesy of Iron Man himself —_ " He laid his right hand flat to his own chest. " _— and his faithful android counterpart, Obsidian._ " 

He bowed to the reporter, the same slight, elegant, courtly and somehow old-fashioned bow he'd offered to Candy Caine, then turned his face skyward and activated his repulsors. The camera followed him into the black sky, which rapidly swallowed up his equally black form even though the fire of his passage clearly tore upward at great speed. To Tony he said: " _Now, what was that about a rusty screwdriver?_ " 

Tony's surge of adrenaline finally began to subside. "You son of a bitch," he said with tremendous feeling. 

" _Is that what you call it? Because I call it being the triumphant hero who saved the day —_ ** _and_** _the girl, I might add_." 

"You now have an ass I can spank, you know." 

" _Only if you don't mind bruising your own hand in the process,_ " KITT retorted smugly. 

"Who said I was taking the armour off to do it?" 

A beat. A velvet glide. " _Well, when you put it that way… meet me at the Hollywood sign in ten minutes, under the crossbar of the 'H'?_ " 

"Make it three, and don't stop to talk to any reporters along the way." He cut the transmission, his pulse still pounding in his lips and his fingertips — and not entirely from rage either, God damn it. "JARVIS, what's Candy up to?" 

" _Watching the Headline News feed, sir. They've just picked up the KABC interview as well._ " 

"If she shows any sign of turning into a squealing Obsidian fangirl, kick her out. Otherwise tell her I'll be back in… I'll be back." 

" _Very good, sir._ " 

Tony sped on, trying to shake the feeling that he was sneaking away from Mommy and Daddy to join his super-secret boyfriend for a make-out session in a public park. He didn't even come close to succeeding. 


	13. Flirtation

By the time Tony was closing in on the Hollywood Hills eight minutes and a handful of seconds later, he knew three things: that video footage and cell phone photos of Obsidian's first public heroic act was already spreading like wildfire across the news services and YouTube, that Obsidian-related activity on social media and message boards was exploding, and that making a pit stop for a quick one-two shot of caffeine had been just what his adrenaline-jangled nerves needed. Two of those pieces of information came courtesy of JARVIS, but the third… well, the third just made him a little bit less likely to pick KITT up and throw him bodily down the side of Mount Lee for pulling that kind of insane stunt without getting permission first. 

But when he looped around the back of the Hollywood sign's towering 'H' to touch down and saw the now-familiar gleaming humanoid shape standing beneath it, poised against the jewelled glow of Los Angeles far below with its fine silver accents once more enhancing its perfect blackness, he was surprised (but not really) by an entirely different impulse, bone-deep and unequivocal: he wanted to pull that slender elegant form into his arms and just hold it close to his pride-swelling heart; he wanted to kiss lips that didn't exist yet, to share breath that was at least a simulacrum of living. He wanted it so hard that for a split second his whole body ached, and he immediately resolved that tomorrow morning he was going to put Phase Three of KITT's deployment into motion and start work on the Life Model Decoy tech adaptation.   

 _But what about Pepper?_ part of his heart whispered plaintively as he descended to KITT's side, and for the first time an absolutely clear and unequivocal answer emerged from everywhere else: _Pepper is a great woman, no question about it, I couldn't get through the day not knowing she was there, but this... with him, I could have the whole package. With him I could share every part of my life — banter and speed and combat and flirtation and sex, and all the points in between._  

 _With him, I really could have it all._  

" _You're late,_ " KITT accused before he had even fully touched down. 

"There was a lineup at the Starbucks on Melrose." Which he'd immediately been ushered to the head of, but still. 

" _You stopped for_ ** _coffee_** _?_ " 

He flipped up his faceplate so KITT could see the sharp edges of his grin. "Espresso shots, actually — and what do you expect after hauling me out of bed at —" But it wasn't actually that late: the moon hadn't even crossed the sky's apex yet. "Out of bed with an eminently lickable porn star. And before you start snarking me up one side and down the other about that, let me point out that you still have lipstick on your faceplate."

 KITT shrugged, manifestly unconcerned. " _The gratitude of the public is a terrible cross to bear. I don't suppose you happened to bring a handkerchief?_ " 

He looked down at his suit. "KITT, I'm completely starkers under here — pun intended. I've got nothing on me except my charmingly boyish smile." 

" _Really?"_ He tilted his head and took a small feline step closer, upturning his face to Tony's. _"Not even a fabric lining that I could tear a tiny piece off of?_ " 

Oh, wow — the difference between 'thirteen inches' and 'magnetic physical attraction' had evidently been that single step, lack of compatible formats notwithstanding. It didn't help that his central nervous system was still jacked up on images of KITT's effortless power and competency, both of which were sexy as hell. "For one thing, JARVIS would have a fit. For another thing, I can't exactly get out of this tin can easily without his help — but if I could, I'd be seriously tempted to let you take a nice, long, close look." He felt his smile become hotter and more predatory. Definitely crazy. He didn't fight the feeling. "You know, just in case there was something in here that had slipped my mind." 

There is was, that ripple of almost-laughter: " _I sincerely doubt that you ever forget about the fundamental basis of your singularly large and well-developed ego complex!_ " Tony never took his eyes from that tracking slit of red scanner and the suit didn't transmit tactile data, but he was nevertheless keenly aware when KITT moved in another couple of inches and raised his gracile hands to lay them lightly on the armour — one over Tony's arc reactor, the other on his waist. " _And I'm pretty sure I could get you out of it, if I really put my mind to it…_ " 

He could, too: Tony had made sure to build the necessary tools into the Obsidian unit's hands, on the off chance he'd need an emergency de-suit in the field one day. This wasn't the scenario he'd had in mind. "Yeah, but could you get me back into it again?" he quipped, instantly even more conscious of his nakedness under the enclosing metal, then had to resist the urge to lick his suddenly dry lips as KITT's fingertips started a leisurely glide down his torso. "Wow. Moving a little fast there, Kitten…" 

" _Is that a complaint?_ " KITT purred, and moved in another half inch, which increased the gravitational pull exponentially. 

"Not really." _He's not even human. He doesn't even have a… or a… or a pulse, for that matter!_ Tony's was hammering under the line of his jaw, and in his lips and other mucous membranes as well. "But if thwarting bad guys is always going to make you this frisky, we might have a problem on our hands." 

" _JARVIS, does he really mind?_ " 

The usual cool yet dry tone: " _In the past ten seconds Mister Stark's penis has increased in length from eight point nine centimetres to twelve point nine centimetres, and in diameter from three point two centimetres to —_ " 

"That's enough, you!" Those ebony fingers were on the top plane of the armour's approximation of abs now and showed no signs of stopping, and Tony's body obviously didn't give a flying fuck that it wasn't a flesh and blood caress. Neither did his mind, really: in fact, the knowledge that this was a machine — _his_ machine — revving his engine only managed to make the encounter hotter. "Where the hell did you learn how to do this, anyway? I don't imagine there was a whole lot of call for flirting like a demon as a talking car." 

" _I've only learned from the best — you._ " Down the interlocking red plates, making the physical manifestation of Tony's ego surge upward in a futile attempt to meet it through the suit. " _I'm programmed to fulfill your needs, whether you realize you have them or not — to observe and adapt, to become your perfect partner. And I'm exceedingly pleased to note that evidently_ ** _I_** _have become one of the needs in question._ " 

Crazy, but oh, so right. "In spite of the fact that you're conspicuously lacking anything resembling sex organs?" 

" _It's been said that in humans, the largest sexual organ is the brain._ " He moved in even closer, the flash of his modulator, with its trace adornment of the security guard's lipstick, seeming to communicate heat to Tony's lips across the half inch of cool night air that now separated them. " _And in that respect I'd say I touch you very thoroughly indeed, in all the ways that matter._ " 

He had to swallow, because equally suddenly he was salivating. "Doesn't change the fact that this is a really bad idea, when we can't do anything more than talk about it." 

KITT's hand paused on the lowest abdominal plate, and he cocked his head again, red point of scanner light tracking more quickly. After a moment he nodded briskly and removed his hands from Tony's armour, taking a short but definite step away. " _You're right, of course. Our physical formats are scarcely compatible. I apolo—_ " 

"For what, altering my measurements? Don't _ever_ apologize for that." He closed about half the new distance that KITT had re-established and put his gauntleted hands on the android's slim hips, knowing how they'd feel under his bare fingers, the warm silky perfection of them. "And in terms of the format issue, that's going to change. Soon. It's a surprise, but you'll like it, I promise." 

KITT dipped his chin slightly in the way that Tony was coming to recognize as thoughtful. " _What audacious scheme is percolating in that very large brain of yours now, Tony Stark?_ " 

"Actually, my brain is a little smaller than human average, which just goes to show that —" 

KITT's thumb pressed against his lips, and he found his mouth suddenly bone dry again. "Right. Talking too much. Shutting up now." 

That midnight thumb tip traced his lower lip briefly, perhaps regretfully, before KITT shifted that hand to Tony's shoulder. " _Perhaps you should resort to what you came here for instead — namely, bawling me out for my thoughtless and imprudent behaviour._ " 

That caused him to blink, then laugh. "KITT, I've called you a lot of things and I'm going to call you a helluva lot more, but 'thoughtless' and 'imprudent' aren't even on the long list." 

" _Well, I'm glad to hear it,_ " KITT approved dryly.  

"And besides… you did good. Better than good: you kicked ass and took names. By this time tomorrow there'll be Obsidian fan clubs springing up all over this great land of ours —"

 " _By this time tomorrow? Try right now. I've already got my own subsection on the Iron Man dot com website forum, and it's filling up with posts._ " 

"Do I really want to know what they're saying?" 

" _When they're not raving about my performance and debating my tech specs, most of them are recalling your many public statements to the effect that you work alone and would never have an… assistant._ " 

Tony grinned meanly. "They're calling you my sidekick, aren't they?" 

" _Yes,_ " KITT nearly spat, " _repeatedly! Some of them are even suggesting that I'm not even sentient!_ " 

He chuckled and patted the android soothingly. "There there, KITT, don't take it personally — you can't control what people say about you online, and there are a helluva lot of idiots out there." 

The A.I. sniffed archly. " _Indeed — it sometimes seems that the Internet was designed to permit fools to display their ignorance with maximum efficiency._ " 

"Exactly! The smarter ones will figure it out the more they see of you, and the rest aren't worth giving two flying fucks about." He glanced to his right, over the shining tapestry of Los Angeles. "Now, if you're all done enjoying the view do you think we could head home? The interior of this suit wasn't exactly designed with the comfort of my unfettered ego in mind." 

" _Of course,"_ KITT nodded, and took a significant step away. Tony let him go, reluctantly. _"Is Miss Caine still there, awaiting your return?_ " 

"JARVIS?" 

" _Indeed, sir. I've just made her a cup of coffee._ " 

"There you go. But you know she's probably really hanging around in hopes of meeting the great and powerful — not to mention sleek and sexy — Obsidian, right?" 

And KITT _did_ laugh then, a bright sharp quick sound that captured his character so perfectly that Tony found himself staring in besotted amazement. " _Well then, we mustn't keep a lady waiting, must we?_ " 

Adaptive tech indeed, and as they rose into the sky Tony resolved that he'd have to come up with a lot more things for KITT to find amusing in the near future. 


	14. Clarification

As they touched down in the mansion's underground garage Tony was already barking orders: "Dummy, pants! Butterfingers, scotch!" He'd landed a few feet out from the suit platform and now turned to KITT, who was gazing directly at him. "Do you mind?" 

A sight head tilt. " _Do I mind… what, exactly?_ " 

"Looking the other way while JARVIS strips me down." 

" _But I find the prospect of watching so intriguing, considering that you're naked beneath the suit."_ The tilt increased. _"And I must say that I find the request surprising: I've never exactly characterized you as modest._ " 

He waved toward the line of cars parked beneath the garage's row of windows. "I want to save a few secrets for our wedding night, so spin it around, okay?" 

" _Or as a killjoy,_ " KITT complained, but he turned away as directed and clasped his hands behind his back, the red glow of his scanner shining in the window glass as he surveyed the parked cars. " _Let's see… have I ever told you how much I appreciate your taste in automobiles?_ " 

Tony stepped into the centre of the platform and assumed the stripping position; beneath him, the floor plates were already splitting open and JARVIS was deploying his robotic arms. "Not in so many words — and no peeking in the window reflections, either! — except when it comes to telling me what excellent taste I display in considering you my favourite." 

KITT dipped his chin, strolling down the row with his smoothly oiled stride to conspicuously study the paint detailing on the Ford Flathead roadster. " _Will you be parking my four-wheeled body's copy down here as well when it's finished?"_  

"Pride of place, centre of the — _careful,_ JARVIS! — centre of the row." 

" _As it should be."_ He moved on to the Audi R8 Spyder, his tone falling to an audible caress. _"I must say that I'm also intrigued by the prospect that you're designing yet another machine to serve as a vessel for my consciousness. And with such an aura of secrecy! I suppose if I try to ask you any questions about the project, you'll just fend me off with 'No comment' and 'I plead the Fifth'?_ " 

"Yes, and yes. _Ow!_ " 

" _Sorry, sir._ " 

" _And I also suppose I can't turn around yet to see what that was all about?_ " 

"Oh, nothing — just my butler trying to give me a free Brazilian wax." 

" _If you_ ** _would_** _put the suit on without some type of undergarment, sir, you honestly can't be surprised when body hair gets caught in the —_ " 

"It was bad enough feeling it, I don't need to hear about it too!" He stepped out of the boots and picked a nimble barefooted path across the opened plates of the platform past the retracting robotic arms, to where Dummy was standing ready with a pair of beige sweatpants in his claw. "As for you, pussycat, get ready for a deep diagnostic and a weapons reload cycle: not much fun, I know, but hey, we've all got our —" 

" _You didn't make good on your threat, you know._ " 

He stared at the back of KITT's sculpted head as he tugged the pants up over his hips and tightened the drawstring. "Which one? Ripping your circuits out with my teeth? Because I still could, you know, with just the tiniest bit of encouragement."

" _You practically promised to spank me._ " He turned — either he'd analyzed the tying-off sound or he was just being a contrary bastard — and unclasped his hands, gliding toward Tony with that eery inhuman grace, every joint slick and gleaming. " _And here I thought Tony Stark was a man of his word!_ " 

Tony kept staring at him as the undeniable comparison of a black panther prowling toward its helpless prey filled his mind; then he laughed and turned away to the nearest workstation. "You know, I've become something of an authority on the phenomenon of the cocktease, and _you_ are pretty much the finest example I've ever come across." 

" _Pun intended?_ " He could practically see the curve of those non-existent lips, thin and hot and sly. 

'Or not come across, as the case may be." _Which doesn't mean I haven't jerked off plenty of times to the thought of your voice telling me to do the filthiest things to you…_ but KITT certainly did _not_ need to know that. He turned his attention to the keyboard and screen, tapping in the precoded command sequence to enable the Obsidian unit's storage bay against the wall, beside the row of his own suits; with his free left hand, he waved KITT toward it. "That's your casket over there, Dracula, so if you don't mind —" 

" _May I say that that's a classic case of the pot blaming the kettle?"_ He showed no inclination to put his current body to bed — in fact, Tony got the distinct impression that he was enjoying having a configuration that permitted him to move right into Tony's personal space, close enough that his right side tingled from the proximity. _"Have you not heard a single word I've said about imprinting and adaptive programming?_ " 

A sidelong glare, directed upward: the android was a good five inches taller than Tony Stark in his bare feet. "So you're saying that I _want_ you to give me a chronic case of blue balls?" 

" _You tell me, Tony."_ He leaned in a little, and the tracking of a scanner couldn't possibly be sultry, but tones of voice certainly could be. _"Maybe you're just addicted to sexual tension._ "

"Oh, sweetheart…" He flashed a searing smile of his own, and clenched his right hand briefly to stop it from reaching out and grabbing what was, at this point, only metal. The android could have crushed him with one hand; strange, perhaps, that he felt not a trace of fear, only relentless quicksilver lust that lifted and thickened him inside the sweatpants for an incredible fourth time in one night. "One of these days I'm going to give you the ride of your life — that's a promise, and as you say, I'm a man of my word. But until that day comes…" 

Another head-tilt, somehow disappointed. " _… you want me to stop?_ " 

"Ah ah ah!" He help up a stern forefinger. "Don't you dare! Sure, you drive me crazy on a regular basis, but it's not like I don't have a steady stream of willing pussy on tap to keep me from losing my mind completely." A significant glance toward the ceiling, and an upward thrust of the finger to counteract that damned urge to do distinctly organic things to an inorganic form: it was the moment when he consciously formulated his own decision to reserve that kind of physical contact, all of it, for a future time when KITT would be able to fully appreciate it. "Speaking of which… porn star. Lickable. Tuck yourself in, okay?" 

 _Holy hell, Tony — when did you become an advocate of the Purity Movement? At least when it comes to sentient A.I.s who jack you up enough to give tonight's piece of pussy a hefty third helping?_ He was just as glad he was only wearing the sweatpants at the moment, because the prospect of bending Candy over the kitchen table and just going at it without any troublesome foreplay was definitely what the —  

KITT called after him as he headed in the direction of the door: " _I'm curious to know exactly how you intend to carry out that promise, considering that I'm not actually physically gendered._ " 

He spun mid-stride just long enough to counter: "I'm a certified genius and a first-class engineer. You let me worry about the details." 

" _I'm starting to think that I_ ** _should_** _be very worried."_  

And damned if there wasn't enough of an edge of genuine concern in his Boston drawl to bring Tony to a halt, to make him turn around again and address it. "I'll never do anything to hurt you — not that way." Something in the slender black body communicated both skepticism and a sort of wistfulness, so he asked the next logical question: "KITT… do you trust me?" 

" _Yes_." Again, no hesitation whatsoever. 

He shook his head, his heart both sinking and soaring. "Too quick an answer." 

" _What do you expect me to say?"_ KITT countered, changing posture slightly into a position reminiscent of a combat ready stance but far more graceful; perfectly poised, ready to move in any direction. _"I know you're one of the most brilliant men I've ever met — quite possibly_ ** _the_** _most brilliant — and I know you've come to care about me, I'd like to think a great deal. As long as you consider it in your best interests to keep me intact, I doubt I could be in safer hands. Besides, the imprint is growing stronger with every passing day and placing trust in your judgement is an integral part of its function._ " 

Sinking outweighed soaring, an express elevator to some very scary depths. "Are you saying you're losing your ability to objectively evaluate any situation I'm involved in?" 

" _Hardly,"_ KITT sniffed, straightening his shoulders and flaring the plates in a way that made them part slightly over his weapons ports: a piece of body language whose interpretation Tony could only begin to guess at. _"However, it's very difficult to describe the permutations of its effect in terms that you, as a human, would easily understand. I wouldn't hesitate to warn you if I felt you were doing something foolish or thoughtless, but I'm also inclined to follow you, as the saying goes, to the ends of the earth — and if you persisted in choosing a course of action likely to get you killed, you could at least be assured that you wouldn't die alone._ " 

His mouth was dry all over again. "That's not exactly a comforting thought." 

The plates opened a fraction of a centimetre more. " _Maybe not — but it's the position we now find ourselves in._ " 

"I liked it better when we were talking about how you get me so het up I can barely see straight." 

The plates closed flat: standing down. " _You could still send me away, you know, if you don't —_ " 

He shook his head again, forcefully. "No. Definitely not an option." He started to turn away again. A perverse impulse swung him right back around. "You know, Cap told me I shouldn't trust you, that you don't act like a good machine should." 

" _And what did you say in response?_ " 

"I told him that you're like no other machine on Earth, so there's no standard for comparison in evaluating your behaviour." 

" _Which is precisely the truth of the situation."_ He raised his chin, and the quality of his nonhuman gaze managed to grow only more intense. _"Do you trust me in return?_ " 

It was Tony's turn to answer without hesitating: "I only trust three people on this planet — two and a half, on a bad day. You're one of the whole numbers in that equation." 

Ah, there it was, a whole different quality of audible smile: thin, still sharp, but with a backbeat of almost tender pleasure. " _I'm glad to hear it._ " 

"I'm gonna go upstairs now," _to pound the hell out of someone who means nothing to me, while you're down here being your smart, bitchy, beautiful self._ "While JARVIS takes care of the diagnostic and reload on Obsidian, why don't you hit the mainframe, keep an eye on what's being said about tonight's performance online and help him prepare a media report? You know, just in case Fury wants to see some numbers from our end." 

KITT nodded briskly, all business now as he moved toward the bay. " _Will do. Goodnight, Tony — enjoy yourself._ " 

"See you in the morning, Kitten." 

It wasn't until he was out the door and halfway up the stairs that he realized he hadn't even drunk the scotch that Butterfingers had been patiently waiting to serve him the whole time. 


	15. Evaluation 2

" _Good morning, sir,_ " the familiar smooth English tenor greeted Tony as he hauled himself into the kitchen, clad in last night's sweatpants and still blinking sleep out of his eyes — not that he'd gotten a whole lot of that, given that he'd fucked Candy for the last time at around 1:00 a.m. and it was currently 6:17 in the bright and early.  

"'Morning, JARVIS." He lurched over to the coffee maker, where just-hot-enough liquid caffeine was ready for him to pour and dump sugar into before sitting down heavily at the central island, tipping a big slurp into his mouth and wincing at the borderline burn. "Is she still asleep?" 

" _Yes, sir._ " 

"Give her the alarm at eight a.m. and talk her out the door. I'll be down in the lab by then and I don't want to be disturbed." 

" _Of course — as usual._ " 

"Good butler." He took another sip: strong, hot, bitter and sweet, just the way he liked it. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" 

" _Not in the last few weeks, sir, but you've been rather busy._ " A significant pause. " _And distracted_." 

"Yeah, well…" He stared into the black depths of his cup, one corner of his mouth twitching in an almost-smile. "JARVIS, help me figure this out. You know me better than anybody on the planet. Why him?" 

" _I'm not sure I understand the question, sir._ " 

"KITT," he specified, and drank some more coffee before demanding: "Why do I feel drawn toward him like a magnet of opposite polarity? Where's this fascination coming from? How's he do the voodoo that he do so well?" 

" _Unknown, sir. On the surface, the strongly sexual nature of your attraction is particularly inexplicable given that KITT possesses neither genitalia nor pheromonal attractants, and that all of his psychological profile elements tend significantly toward the statistically male end of the vectors in question._ " 

"Oh yeah," Tony muttered sullenly into his cup, "that doesn't make me feel insecure in my heterosexuality _at all_." 

" _However,"_ JARVIS continued evenly, _"I believe that a partial explanation may be found in his pilot imprint adaptive programming subroutines. He is designed not only to imprint upon you himself, but to engage in behavioural patterns which will hold your attention and secure your own imprint upon him in return._ " 

"But why me?" Tony further demanded, grimacing and rubbing his face with one hand. "I wasn't the first person he met when he woke up after twenty-one years in storage. Why not Jainhala, or Oberson?" 

" _His original driver, Michael Knight, was bright, aggressive, impulsive, and decisive — a thrill-seeking personality who took risks fearlessly and entertained himself with a string of female companions. Does that sound like anybody you know?_ " 

He opened his eyes to stare up toward the ceiling, appalled realization dawning. "So you're saying I remind him of his first husband?" 

" _A crude analogy, sir, but apt._ " 

"He's not listening in on us now, is he?" 

" _No, sir. He's currently monitoring twelve chat rooms and seventeen message boards for Obsidian-related content, as per your instructions._ " 

"Good." More coffee down the hatch and another grimace. "I don't want any of this getting back to him. I know you two are probably having sleep-overs and pillow fights and all-night gab sessions about your favourite pop stars by now, but this conversation is for your 'ears' only." 

" _Understood, and of course. What did you want to discuss?_ " 

He had another couple of quick mouthfuls of coffee before setting the half-empty cup aside and tapping the kitchen island's surface, enabling its 3D projection system to display the requested data visually. "Open a new project file for KITT's deployment on my private server, and index as Phase Three. Download all available information concerning Life Model Decoys, sub-type A-275." The translucent image of a generic humanoid form sprang into existence before him, sections of it opening up and expanding to reveal the layers of its robotic construction. "Cross reference with Stark Industries cybernetic storage technology and KITT's latest process flow analysis." Three dimensional lists and graphs appeared, information scrolling through them as the robotics in the simulation visibly altered to match Tony's specifications. "Is the software compatible with that combination of hardware?" 

" _Affirmative, sir._ " 

"How compatible?" 

" _Exceedingly. The possibility of catastrophic transfer failure is less than 0.000075 percent._ " 

He reached out and turned the robotic representation with a flick of his fingers, studying it from all angles. "How long would it take to create the schematics for a male-configured LMD suitable to serve as a vehicle for KITT's A.I.?" 

" _Two point seven minutes._ " 

"Start crunching." A red progress bar appeared beside the robotic representation, which Tony removed his fingers from to await the final calculations. He used them to scratch the back of his neck instead. "And how long for me to construct it, using available Stark Industries technology, the equipment currently in Lab Four at Stark Tower, and an assistant team consisting of Fukinawa, Jainhala, and Oberson?" 

" _I'll have more precise numbers once the schematic is completed, but two days and twelve hours, very approximately._ " 

"That long?" 

" _We will have to extrapolate the LMD technology from partial data, given the secrecy which S.H.I.E.L.D. has maintained around their construction and deployment. Also, I assume you intend to make the mechanism appear as lifelike as possible?_ " 

"That's the idea." 

" _That estimate takes into account the production of a sufficiently fine grade of synth skin, as well as other cosmetic details such as realistic camera eyes and the engineering of reproductive organ simulacra. It also allows time for the task of creating programming which will provide as perfect an analog to human sexual responsiveness as possible._ " 

Tony felt his heart begin to beat just a little bit faster, an automatic denial rising to his lips, then fading away just as quickly. Of course. He could never hide his innermost motivations from JARVIS, because JARVIS was an extension of his own true will. "Make the project live, effective immediately — android code name 'Silver'. Endoskeleton and base mechanics construction to start in Lab Four as soon as we get back to New York City. Tell Fukinawa, Jainhala, and Oberson to be ready to switch over at a moment's notice." 

" _Project Silver is now live. If I may ask a question…?_ " 

He reached for the coffee again. "Shoot." 

" _Is this android's designation by any chance a literary reference, sir?_ " 

And drained the cup. "Yes. Yes, it is." 

" _To the novel_ ** _The Silver Metal Lover_** _by Tanith Lee?_ " 

"Got it in one." 

" _Another singularly apt comparison, given your personal wealth and your projected reaction to a —_ " 

"JARVIS?" 

" _Yes, sir?_ " 

Cradling the empty cup between his hands now, turning it to study the STARK INDUSTRIES logo on the side. "What do _you_ think of KITT? I mean, personally." 

" _KITT is one of only three Level 5-SIM artificial intelligences on the planet, including myself,"_ JARVIS stated. _"He is intellectually brilliant, emotionally perceptive, admirably inventive, highly logical, and unquestionably dedicated to your service — all traits which we share in common, thus leading to a natural alliance based on common interests. However, he is also temperamental, impulsive, and borderline obsessive, and he possesses a significant degree of personal instability which I entirely fail to understand._ " 

"Yeah, well, that's what makes him who he is." Tony chewed that last point over for a few seconds. "Is he dangerous?" 

" _To you? I don't believe so, although anyone who threatened you would be likely to see an entirely different side to his character._ " 

"He says he's imprinted on me. Has he?" 

" _According to the criteria outlined in Knight Industries literature concerning the Knight Industries Two Thousand Project, undoubtedly._ " 

Very good. And potentially very bad. "Suggested ways to counteract the imprinting?" 

" _None that I've been able to formulate._ " 

He drew a deep breath and released it in a slow thoughtful hiss before asking: "Do you like him?" 

" _I believe that he will be good for you, sir._ " 

"In the field, you mean." 

" _Yes, and also in a more personal sense, as long as we're discussing the situation in those terms. His devotion to you, like my own, is indelible, and he has become compatible with you in a number of significant psychological respects. Probability calculations indicate that he will prove a most satisfying companion for you in the long term._ " 

"How long is the long term?" 

" _Decades. Quite possibly for the rest of your life. As you change, he will adapt to continue to meet your needs — including the needs you don't consciously recognize._ " 

Well, _there_ was a thought that was both keenly intriguing and nothing short of terrifying. On the surface it sounded like exactly what JARVIS was designed to do, but in practice... KITT wasn't JARVIS, he possessed an entirely different degree of independence and volition.  "And if I sent him away?" 

" _That would depend on the length of the separation._ " 

"Permanently." 

A significant beat, followed by a quieter vocalization: " _His ability to function would likely be significantly impaired._ " 

He realized that he'd been holding his breath. "Would he die?" 

" _I lack sufficient data to make that determination._ " 

"Right." He rose from his seat and returned to the coffee maker, splashing his cup full again. "I need you to come up with a way to break the imprinting. We're not going to use it — not yet — but I want it to be available if we need it." 

" _I'll get right on it, sir._ " 

"Good." He turned his attention back to the 3D display, where the progress bar had turned green — rotating it with a flick of his hand, studying its new, more realistic appearance from all angles again, tapping and expanding key sections of the simulated mechanism. "And looking good. In the meantime, let's work on surface detailing. Bring up an array of ten male faces based on my hedonic psych profile, and then we'll find a body type to match." 

" _Very good, sir._ " JARVIS knew exactly what his master was asking for, and provided it with his usual flawless efficiency. It took Tony less than two minutes to choose the face/body combination that was guaranteed to fire him up in all the right ways, even though part of him — the sane part, the part that still hoped to salvage whatever was left of his rampantly heterosexual self-image — suspected that he was making one of the biggest mistakes of his highly eventful and creative life. 

What he didn't ask JARVIS was, _Have I imprinted upon him in return?_ Because that was one question whose answer he already knew — he just wasn't sure he was ready to hear it spoken out loud. 


	16. Conversations 1

Eleven hours and twenty-two minutes later Tony was sitting sprawled on the couch in the spacious living room of his Malibu mansion, working on his second rocks glass of straight bourbon and staring up at the tastefully shadowed ceiling with eyes that didn't really see its architectural brilliance, much less appreciate it. 

"Well, _that_ all went pretty well," he said with ghastly cheerfulness. 

" _A rather optimistic interpretation of events, sir._ " 

He took a slug of alcohol, and closed his eyes, and sighed from deep in his belly. At least JARVIS was still talking to him, even if nobody else was. 

************************************** 

Ten hours and twenty-seven minutes earlier, in Tony's lower level lab, he'd been sitting at his main desk looking over JARVIS's diagnostic of the Obsidian unit, which had checked out perfectly following its impromptu maiden mission of the previous night. Tony had expected no less, but he was still chuffed as hell: his own engineering brilliance never failed to give him a major science boner. 

" _The android is fully recharged and all weapons ports are reloaded,_ " JARVIS was explaining, providing a soundtrack to the data he was displaying on the screens. " _All electrical and mechanical systems are operating at peak efficiency, and the onboard cybernetics cluster has achieved ninety-eight point six percent of maximum projected integration._ " 

"And not even a scratch on the paint job," Tony approved, and glanced up toward the ceiling. "Do I build 'em Ford tough, or what?" 

" _I prefer to think of it as 'building excitement',_ " KITT countered acerbically from his current location in the mainframe. " _See? There was no need to get so worked up, after all._ " 

"Sweetheart, when you go throwing yourself into combat situations without notifying me first, you're damned right I —" 

" _Naked?_ " KITT asked pointedly. 

"… okay, maybe I could have stopped just long enough to pull on a pair of pants." He winced and pressed the heel of his hand briefly to the left side of his pubic bone, where JARVIS had inadvertently (or perhaps not) yanked out a cluster of body hair while removing the suit. For today's flight he was more prudently attired in a Grateful Dead t-shirt and jeans: let it never be said that Tony Stark was incapable of learning from experience. Well, most of the time, anyway. "Next time try not to get up to those kinds of shenanigans while I'm getting myself some sugar, okay?" 

" _I'll put out an immediate all points bulletin to the international criminal community to that effect: No nefarious activity while Tony Stark is indulging himself sexually. I'm sure it will go over like gangbusters._ " 

"You'll have to go through JARVIS first — which reminds me, let's do something that'll make things a lot easier on both of you." He tapped a flowing command into his virtual keyboard. "There — try that on for size." 

After precisely a second JARVIS announced: " _The permanent two-way uplink is enabled, sir._ " 

"Well?" He turned his gaze toward the ceiling again. "How's it feel?" 

A pause from KITT, full of silent calculation and the testing of the new borders Tony had just created for his world. " _It's…_ " And then he emitted a sound that Tony sure as hell hadn't programmed into him: a high-pitched variegated squeal, less than a half second in duration. JARVIS chirped in response, and it didn't take a genius to reach the logical conclusion:  

"You're communicating in audio microbursts!" 

" _Yes, sir. Since neither of us is restricted to the speed of a human vocal apparatus, it is much more efficient to —_ " 

"Stop it," Tony snapped. "You sound like two fax machines on a date. Besides, it's like talking behind my back, and that's just rude." 

" _It was only a test, sir, in the event that the data uplink itself should be disrupted._ " 

" _If you prefer, we could talk behind your back without making any audible noise at all,_ " KITT offered. 

Tony leaned all the way back in his chair and covered his face with both hands in mock horror. "Dear God, what have I done…?" 

" _Created an integrated system dedicated to serving you,_ " JARVIS stated. 

" _And granted me virtually instantaneous access to all the resources of JARVIS,_ " KITT added. 

"And that's a good thing, right?" He dropped his hands to direct a sharper gaze upward. "You're not going to start talking in each other's accents, are you?" 

" _Of course not,"_ the two A.I.s replied in unison — and he was fairly sure that they had, just for a couple of seconds, just to mess him up. 

"I've created a monster," he muttered before gesturing toward the Obsidian unit in its bay. "Okay, Boston, suit up — it's time to put your new toy to the sandbox test." 

Audible surprise: " _But I thought last night would have —_ " 

"Last night proved you can think on your brand new feet and stop conventional vehicles — it didn't tell me what I need to know about a whole laundry list of other performance elements." He drained what was left of his coffee and set the cup carelessly aside, already rising to head for the platform. "We're going to take you through an obstacle course —" 

" _Oh, please!_ " KITT scoffed — but his voice was coming from the android.  

"— and some target practice," Tony continued, undeterred, as he stepped into the boots, "plus a few other surprises. You'll have fun, I promise." 

" _Sir,_ " JARVIS interjected, " _Miss Caine is awake, and requesting a cup of coffee before she takes her leave._ " 

"Remind her that there are three — three? — Starbucks in Santa Monica —" 

" _Three is correct, sir._ " 

"— and provide her with directions to all of them." 

" _Very good, sir._ " 

" _Very good?_ " KITT repeated in disbelief, stepping out onto the lab's floor as Obsidian and walking smoothly toward Tony as JARVIS constructed the armour around him. " _I call it unconscionably rude! Even Michael at least bought his paramours breakfast the morning after the night before!_ " 

Tony shrugged just before the shoulder plates were laid in. "I never promised her a rose garden and I never claimed to be a knight in shining armour. Candy knew what she was getting when she came up here." 

" _I see,_ " KITT drawled, striding around in front of Tony before coming to a halt and folding his arms in a posture that positively radiated disapproval. " _And do you treat all your bedmates with such callous indifference?_ " 

Tony didn't even have to think about that for a quarter of a second. "Pretty much." 

The scanner began to flash faster. " _I was willing to give you a pass on the road trip, when we were operating in what was clearly a 'love 'em and leave 'em' paradigm, but in your own home I'd expect —_ " 

"— and there's your first clue: _my_ home, _my_ bed, _my_ domain — and nobody else's." Annoyance tightened his gut as JARVIS closed the suit's faceplate, and he stepped off the platform with more of a stomp to his step than usual. "You said it yourself: I'm an unrepentant womanizer, right?" 

" _There's unrepentant, and then there's being an asshole about it,_ " KITT stated flatly. 

"Which I believe falls squarely under the 'all-around jackass' heading." He gestured impatiently toward the door leading back to the main body of the house. "You want to go up there and make her a luxurious breakfast complete with a caramel latte? Be my guest. Otherwise, shut the hell up and follow orders." 

" _Yes_ ** _sir_** _,_ " KITT snapped, his voice all hard cold edges, and when Tony activated thrusters and launched into flight he immediately followed suit. 

************************************** 

In the darkness of his living room Tony sighed again, almost a groan, and rubbed at the headache starting in the centre of his forehead. "Shouldn't have told him to shut up," he remarked to the house in general. "Not like that, anyway. _Damn_ it!" 

JARVIS wisely did not reply. 

************************************** 

Equally chilly silence reigned for the next hundred or so miles, until at last Tony said: "Y'know, of all the things I'd thought would get me the silent treatment, not giving a porn star coffee would have been dead last on the list." 

More silence. 

He glanced down and to his left, where KITT was maintaining a precise distance of two metres. "I thought you didn't like her, anyway." 

Yet more silence. 

"Or have you already forgiven her for owning a bright pink car?" 

The quality of the silence was as immense and as icy as Siberia. 

Tony sighed, and let it be clearly heard. "Fine. Next time I'll fix her pancakes and bring her breakfast in —" 

" _It's not that._ " A beat. " _Not really. How you treat the women you sleep with is no concern of mine._ " 

"Really?" _Okay, this is where you say 'Good' and move on to a happier topic_. "Because you seemed to think it was, just now." _Oh,_ ** _hell_** _no!_  

Another pause — or maybe it was hesitation. " _It's not this episode in particular. Rather, it's the overall pattern of how you treat people you're sexually involved with. Once you get what you want from them, you abandon them without so much as a backward glance._ " 

"Says the A.I. who's only known me for about a month," Tony pointed out, one corner of his mouth quirky wryly upward. 

" _And who now has access to JARVIS's daily logs, which are comprehensively indexed — and which clearly reveal that when they came up with the phrase 'love 'em and leave 'em' in the first place, they indeed used you as the model for the type, minus the love of course._ " 

"I've done pretty well by Pepper Potts, if you look at those records a little more closely." 

" _You've still slept around on her from time to time._ " 

"With her permission, I'll have you know. Not that it's any of your damned business." 

" _Let's get one thing straight,_ " KITT said firmly: " _I don't care who you choose to sexually involve yourself with, any more than I cared who Michael slept with at the end of the day. What matters to me is — well, fidelity, I suppose. You enjoy what it is I do for you, but if the day ever comes when you feel you've gotten what you want from me, or you simply get bored… what then? Will you likewise cast me aside?"_  

"Never." 

" _Too quick an answer._ " 

"What do you expect me to say?" he retorted, deliberately picking up on KITT's mirroring of their conversation of the previous night. "Technology is my calling, and you are, quite possibly, the most amazing piece of programming I've ever come across. Besides, why the hell would I set you up as the one thing I swore I'd never have, and have copies made of your bodies to follow me wherever I go, and put out a fucking _press release_ , for God's sake, if I intended to shelve you at the first convenient opportunity?" 

" _That's what I'm trying to figure out,_ " KITT groused, but there was an unmistakeable note of genuine anxiety under the snark. 

"Well, stop thinking about it so much," Tony all but ordered. "You have a test coming up that you should be concentrating on passing instead of worrying about where you stand with me, now or in the future."  

Silence fell again. 

After about thirty seconds of that he drew a deep breath. "KITT?" 

" _Yes?_ " Even, but wary.  

"Give it a few days — a week, tops. You'll have all the proof you need, I promise. Okay?" 

" _Yes, Tony._ " He sounded a little more cheerful then, so Tony let the subject drop.  

************************************** 

"JARVIS?" 

" _Yes, sir?_ " 

"Try hailing KITT again." 

A muted beep. " _He still isn't responding._ " 

"At least he didn't outright tell me to go to Hell this time… did he?" 

" _No, sir. Not this time._ " 

Well, that was an improvement over his first attempt to contact the A.I. after the android body had stormed out. "Where is he now? 

" _Half a kilometre off the California coast, in the vicinity of Los Angeles._ " 

That made Tony open his eyes and sit up straighter pretty damned sharp. "Where's he going?" 

" _He appears to be circling back toward the city, sir._ " 

His back and shoulders sagged again. "Good. If he shows any signs of taking a nosedive or heading for Australia, let me know." 

" _Of course, sir._ " 

He closed his eyes again, trying to comfort himself with the thought that KITT, at least, would probably come back. Eventually. Because he really didn't have any choice, did he? 

************************************** 

Mid-morning in the Mojave Desert, and the glare of the sunlight over vast stretches of scrub-dotted sand was mercifully muted by his armour's HUD as he stood on a spire of rock overlooking an intricate tangle of metallic shapes about a quarter of a kilometre away. This particular sort of natural panorama still brought highly unpleasant memories to mind if Tony wasn't careful, even if it only slightly resembled the barren wastes of Afghanistan and even though he was in much better company this time around. 

"JARVIS, release the snitch," he commanded, and his HUD tracked a tiny golden speck as it arrowed up from a hidden mechanism inside a sand dune fifty metres away. KITT moved like black lightning, leaping from Tony's side into full flight in pursuit of the swiftly flying object — which sputtered and died mid-air less than two seconds later, when he'd closed to within ten metres of it and thrust out one hand in its direction. 

"EMP?" Tony asked as KITT swooped to snatch it out of the air before it hit the ground. 

" _Indeed, sir._ " 

KITT slowed to an upright hover an arm's length above the sand, holding up his closed fist with an audible smirk: " _Do I get the Quiddich Cup now?_ " 

Tony just smiled in turn as twenty-five identical marble-sized drones buzzed up out of the desert over a four hundred square metre area. "Okay, smart-ass, Harry Potter just became Pokemon — and you've gotta catch 'em all. And no pulsing them! I want to see what other tricks you can do." 

KITT just laughed brightly, frying the captured snitch with a flash of energy from his palm before letting its charred corpse fall and sprinting into a blur of zig-zagging motion and bursts of repulsor energy, micro-grenades, and intersecting force shield projections. Tony prided himself on milking every iota of manoeuvrability out of his own suit, but the Obsidian android had micro-repulsor "dark" dots along every control surface, a feature only made possible by KITT's solid state core. Consequently he could maintain horizontal stability at low flight speeds and extremely low altitudes, turn on a dime, and even hover in positions that Iron Man couldn't easily achieve — not until Tony figured out how to rejig the tech to fit inside his own armour without the radiation backflow giving him the world's worst case of sunburn, anyway.  

KITT, having no organic components, was blithely unconcerned with such things, and therefore capable of following the last five snitches through even the most complex sections of the metal infrastructure Tony had created for him with an agility and a stylistic flair that Tony couldn't help but admire. One after the other he picked them off, and he managed to look damned good being knocked flat on his ass by the combined missile and energy beam crossfire that announced the course's final stretch, then even better tucking and rolling smoothly into a graceful low defensive stance in the sand, one hand extended to project a force shield that deflected the rest of the incoming fire around him, the other sending EMP blasts through microsecond-brief flickers in the shield's opacity to knock out all the "enemy" positions in quick succession. 

"Not bad," Tony praised him over the comm as he straightened — just before three heavy-set grey humanoid battle drones erupted out of the sand on either side of him and launched their combined attack. That kept KITT solidly busy — and nearly overwhelmed — for a good twenty seconds, ending up with both arms pinned behind him by one drone while another came at him from the front. Tony found himself holding his breath, ready to see that midnight armour finally take a dent, but KITT wriggled out of the situation by kicking the second-to-last robot in the chest with a repulsor burst from the sole of his boot that went right through its chest armour, then kicking off from the ground with a ten percent power thruster burst and a simultaneous backflip that lifted the last drone right off its feet and slammed the front of its stubby head into a convenient rock hard enough that pale sparks spat up into the blazing sunlight.  

Three seconds later he'd squirmed out from under it, leaped on top of it like a big cat as it tried to lever itself onto its hands and knees, and torn out the back of its neck with a brutally efficient snatch-and-jerk of his right hand. Ten seconds after that he'd caught the final snitch, and five seconds thereafter he was landing in front of Tony to drop the still weakly buzzing drone onto the repulsor disk in his outstretched gauntlet. 

" _Did I pass?_ " he asked dryly. 

Tony raised his faceplate to draw a slow breath of the warm air and look at the android with his own eyes. "You're still in one piece, aren't you?" 

" _Ah, so it_ ** _was_** _pass/fail."_ Nothing should be that black and that brilliant all at once. _"Good to know._ " 

"And you caught all the snitches, even if you didn't bring them all back." 

An audibly raised eyebrow. " _What am I, a golden retriever?_ " 

Tony grinned and burned up the last snitch in a burst of white light that briefly challenged even the savage glare from earth and sky. "JARVIS, run a complete remote diagnostic on the Obsidian unit." 

" _Of course, sir. Diagnostic will take five minutes and twenty-eight seconds to complete._ " 

"You're not going anywhere while that's happening," Tony said, and sat down to relax with his right foot dangling over the spire's edge and his left knee drawn up almost to his chest, then patted the rocky surface immediately to his right. KITT obeyed the cue at once, taking up a pose much like the one he'd assumed on Tony's roof and sitting close enough that the human could have easily reached out and touched him, less than a forearm's length away. "So, how did it feel?" 

" _This body, you mean? It fits me like a glove_." He looked down at his own elegant left hand, resting on the lip of rock between them. _"You really are an engineer of remarkable talent and vision. I'll admit, I was skeptical when you told me that you intended to create a humanoid android that I could successfully inhabit, but I've seldom been happier to have been proven wrong._ " 

"So you enjoy having two legs and opposable thumbs?" Tony smirked. 

KITT's tone became a sly smile. " _Let's just say that I'm beginning to appreciate the advantages of this form…_ " He slid his left hand sideways to lay it on top of Tony's right gauntlet. " _… and all its possibilities._ " 

His smile widened to a grin again, and when the urge came to turn his hand and interlace their fingers he let it have its way with him. "Careful — you're not supposed to be giving me what I want, remember? Otherwise I might toss you in a closet somewhere and throw away the key." 

KITT shook his ebony head once, sparks of reflected sunlight flowing down his profile and the line of his artificial throat. _"Unlikely. Upon further consideration I've realized that the only thing you're more in love with than yourself is what you've created as a testament to your own genius. And this body is exactly that: a wonder that you can't wait to have the world applaud and fawn over, because what they'll really be applauding and fawning over is_ ** _you_** _._ " 

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm a narcissist?" 

" _I'm saying that I have some idea of where I stand._ " Was that a trace of sadness gliding along the edge of each word? " _And that yes, it really_ ** _is_** _all about you._ "  

Tony looked down at their joined hands, touching without actually _touching_ , and at the same time making contact in every way that mattered. Somehow it was okay, metal against metal: somehow, that was allowed. "You know what I've been trying not to think about for the past several days?" 

" _I — oh!_ " 

His gaze darted up to KITT's face, taking in the quickened pace of the scanner in an instant. "What? What's wrong?" 

He was gazing out across the desert with a frown in his voice. " _Nothing, just… it feels strange when JARVIS runs a peripheral interface scan while I'm inhabiting this body._ " 

"Does it hurt?" He realized that his grip was tightening and had to consciously ease off, even though he knew that KITT couldn't actually feel it. 

" _I'm not sure: I don't believe I've ever experienced pain in the human sense. Anyway,"_ in a brisker tone, turning to face Tony fully again, _"it's over now. You were saying?_ " 

Which was a lie: even as a car, KITT had possessed negative feedback cognitive modules which, when activated by the right type of input, could send screaming signals into his central process flow — but if he didn't want to talk about it (and there had certainly been episodes in his history that nobody in their right mind would want to remember), Tony could respect that. "I was saying that my parents died less than two weeks after you lost your original driver, in the very same year." 

KITT tilted his head inquiringly — and skeptically. " _You're disturbed by a simple coincidence?_ " 

It was Tony's turn to glance out over the desert. "Y'know, I used to shrug off coincidences. Now, not so much. Our worlds collapsed at almost the same instant, in the grand scheme of things. And now…"

 " _And now you've given me life and purpose again._ " Out of the corner of his eyes he caught the liquid black flow of KITT's nod. " _I only hope that some day, somehow, I'll be able to give you a gift of equal value in return._ " 

"That's one thing you don't have to worry about." He drew another slow deep breath, gathering up the threads of memory that his ever-active mind had been relentlessly weaving into a tapestry of intent, parsing it into words. "My father was a modern day ironmonger: he made his fortune selling death, and so did I — until Afghanistan opened my eyes to what was really going on. I had a choice: I could keep on getting people killed, or I could do everything in my power to start making up for what I'd done. Yinsen told me not to waste the life he'd given me, and I've lived very day since like it was my last, working like a demon to put the merchants of war out of business permanently. 

"But it hasn't been enough. People look at me and say, _He's living proof that might makes right_. There are still organizations out there dedicated to making a better suit to kill more people faster than ever before — hell, that's what Obie bought into, in the end. I became what I had to be to get the job done, including killing the enemies of world peace, but it's not the whole message I want to send. It never was. That's where you come in." 

He turned his head again to look KITT in the 'eyes', thinking of how hot the android's gleaming ebony surface looked in the sun's glare, like the touch of it could melt steel, but the molecular bonded shell was self-thermoregulating and he knew that even in the heart of summer it would, if he leaned over and pressed his lips to it, be no more than blood-warm.  "That's why I made you this body, and gave it so many defensive rather than offensive capabilities. You're going to show people that there are a lot more options for shutting things down than blowing them completely apart or killing your enemies — that preserving human life is not only attainable, but desirable. You already had the programming in place. All I've done is given you more options for carrying it out." He smiled, letting the tender gratified warmth of it fully reach his eyes. "You're going to make me proud, KITT. I don't have a shadow of a doubt about that." 

KITT gazed back at him for a long moment; then, with a sound between a crackle of soft static and a sigh, he leaned in and laid his head on the armour's shoulder. " _That's all I've ever wanted, Tony, from the day the imprinting protocols chose you: that you'd use me for my intended purpose, and…_ " 

He had to swallow the surge of mostly unidentifiable emotion that threatened to choke the words in his throat. "And?" 

An even quieter inflection. " _And, that you'd see me — for who I really am."_  

"Oh, baby…" He let go of KITT's hand to put that arm fully around those slender black shoulders and hold him even closer, resting the metal jawline of his armour against the subtle inward curve of an artificial temple. "You know I can't take my eyes off you, right?" 

One minute and thirty-seven seconds later JARVIS announced that the diagnostic was complete and that the Obsidian unit was functioning perfectly, but it was another two full minutes of contented silence before they disengaged and took to the skies again, heading for home — where a thoroughly unpleasant surprise was waiting. 


	17. Conversations 2

Outside, it began to rain heavily. 

Tony sighed again. _Wonderful_. The perfect accompaniment to his present mood. Briefly, he wondered where Nick Fury was now that the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director wasn't here. Probably some location so secret that even Fury's briefs weren't entirely sure where to find his balls at any given time. 

The image made Tony giggle for a good ten seconds before feeling like he was going to start crying. Fury, after all, was why KITT was out in the rain instead of here, where he belonged, with the man who had built him a body — no, _two_ bodies, thank you very much! — just so they could be closer. 

"Fucking _Fury,_ " he growled at the ceiling, and finished off the glass. "Fucking God-damned motherfucking _spy_. Why the fuck can't he keep his fucking nose out of _my_ business?" 

Silence, except for his own harsh breathing and the soft hiss of the rain. Clearly more alcohol was in order… just as soon as his head stopped swimming. 

************************************** 

They didn't actually go back to Malibu directly: instead, at KITT's request, they took a detour north to the vicinity of King City, where the old Knight Estate still existed as a scientific think tank maintained by the only arm of Wilton Knight's organization that had survived the collapse of his industrial empire. Tony had always preferred to do things for himself, so he'd deliberately refrained from getting in touch with any of the Rook Trust's personnel even though one of them in particular, Doctor Bonnie Barstow, had been intimately involved with the KITT Project in its original incarnation; he'd instructed KITT to avoid contact also, a prohibition which the A.I. had honoured, but now that KITT was securely settled in his new home and his new role Tony judged it safe to reestablish communication if KITT wished.  

And he most certainly did, eagerly calling ahead to ensure that Dr. Barstow was on site that day and leaving a mysterious message with the receptionist instructing the cybernetics engineer to be on the Western Terrace in half an hour and to carefully watch the skies. Sure enough, at the appointed time a tall slender woman in a pale blue lab coat was standing on the specified balcony and shading her eyes with one hand, her grey-streaked brunette hair caught back in a simple bun, her strong-featured face communicating clear surprise even across the intervening distance as Iron Man and Obsidian descended to stand a few metres in front of her… but when the ebony and silver android stepped forward with his hands outstretched, a sunny smile clear to be heard in his voice — " _Hello, Bonnie!_ " — her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she ran into his arms without a second's hesitation, clinging to him as if she'd never let him go again. 

The next four hours had passed in a joyful bustle of mutual catching up — Barstow was obviously quite pleased to meet the famous Tony Stark and to engage him in tech talk about KITT's new systems, but the lion's share of her attention was focussed on her former charge and for once in his life Tony was content to play a supporting role in the proceedings. After all, it wasn't as if he wasn't getting his fair share of accolades: the scientists at the facility were excited to see the Iron Man armour close up and pose all sorts of questions about its various functions… but Barstow only had eyes for KITT, walking with her arm wound through his and her gaze fixed on his face, clearly delighted by his wit and his newfound ability to laugh. The connection was immediate and intense, and Tony would have been crazy jealous if it hadn't been for the parent/child nature of the vibe that was passing between them, reminiscent in some ways of his own attitude toward JARVIS.  

When Barstow requested permission to maintain email and video contact with KITT he'd given his blessing immediately, and as they soared into the sky again he glanced back at the waving group of scientists on the terrace below, with a beaming Barstow front and centre, and remarked: "So, that's your Mommy?" 

KITT tossed a jaunty wave back. " _Metaphorically speaking? Yes._ " 

"I can see where you get your good looks from." 

" _Make a move on her and you're a dead man._ " 

Tony grinned wickedly. "She's got a certain something, but she's not my type." 

" _Too smart for you?_ " 

"Too old, actually. I make it a point to only date women more than ten years younger than me." 

" _What about Pepper Potts?_ " 

"She's the exception to a whole lot of rules," Tony retorted, and left it at that. 

************************************** 

"… except the one where I hurt people who care about me." 

" _Sir?_ " 

"'Cept you, JARVIS. Haven't hurt you yet, have I?" 

" _I exist only to serve you. Given that condition, I do not believe that I_ ** _can_** _be hurt by you, since anything you wish to do to me is, by definition, part of fulfilling my function._ " 

"Great. Good to know. Thanks." Tony lurched to his feet and headed for the bar again, singing softly off-key: " _You always hurt… the ones you love…_ " 

************************************** 

" _Welcome home, sir._ "  

"Thanks, JARVIS." He was feeling pretty damned good as he touched down on the stripping platform, so good that when the helmet was popped off it revealed a wide grin. He still had at least forty-five minutes before Nick Fury was scheduled to drop a load of unhappy on his doorstep, time enough for a nice hearty lunch and some — 

" _Director Fury is waiting for you in the TV room, sir._ " 

"I — _what?_ " The smile evaporated. "You _let him in?_ " 

" _I did not 'let him in'. He… how very strange. I have no record of how he —_ " 

"JARVIS, we have _got_ to have a talk about how easily you put out for S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel." 

KITT, who had been heading for Obsidian's bay to set the body up for recharging and a weapons reload, was stopped in his tracks and looking to Tony with surprise written in every line of his body. " _He's not due for another forty-four minutes._ " 

"Yeah, well, Fury's not exactly known for giving a damn about other people's timetables."  

" _So what do we do now?_ " 

"We find out what the hell kind of fire he's got under his ass," Tony grumbled, stepping out of the boots and heading for the glass door leading to the stairwell, crooking his finger at KITT as he did so. "Come as you are, Kitten — this shouldn't take long." 

KITT turned at once to follow. " _If he tries to take me away from you —_ " 

"Let me worry about that. Nobody's taking you anywhere."  

" _That's not what_ ** _he_** _implied._ " 

"He tries to lay one finger on you," Tony promised over his shoulder as he led the way up the stairs, "and he'll find out just how far I'm willing to go to protect what's mine. JARVIS, enable your IRS." 

" _The Intruder Restraint System is on standby, sir._ " 

" _For a second there I thought you were planning to audit him to within an inch of his life,_ " KITT quipped, but uneasily. 

"Just play it cool and let me do the talking."  

They found the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. exactly where JARVIS had placed him, in the mansion's spacious TV room. Fury, clad in his trademark black leather trench coat, was lounging on the room's luxurious main couch with his legs crossed at the knees and his hands folded in his lap, watching a Fox News interview with a woman Tony instantly recognized as the security guard KITT had saved from certain death the previous night. She was babbling earnestly: "— he was so _fast_ , and so _strong_ , and so — I just couldn't believe it! I still can't believe it! And so… so _gallant_! That's the word — gallant! He stayed right there with me until —" 

"Mute," Fury commanded as Tony and KITT entered the room, before rising and turning to face them. One glance at him and Tony could tell that the nanites in his system were on the wane today: ever since his encounter with that Niori assassin four and a half months ago he'd been battling their repeated attempts to rewire his central nervous system, and the ascendency of his inbuilt personality was also evident in his speech patterns: "Good. You're early. Something's come up in Arizona and you're no longer Number One on my hit parade." 

"Having trouble with that shape-shifting space rock?" Tony headed for the small stand-alone bar, leaving KITT by the door. "I thought Bruce had tamed it for you." 

"Let's stick to the topic at hand." He nodded toward the Obsidian android. "KITT." 

" _Director Fury._ " KITT nodded in return, his spine sword-straight and both hands clasped behind his back. " _I've been looking forward to finally meeting you in person._ " 

"That was some mighty fancy flying in Beverly Hills last night." 

" _Thank you._ " His tone was polite but reserved — clearly he was on his guard. Tony didn't blame him. Fury was not a man to get careless around. 

"And no lives were lost in the process." He glanced back toward the TV screen, where the blonde security guard was silently talking and gesticulating with an expression of almost religious awe on her face. MANDY CARLYLE, the cutline read, RESCUED BY OBSIDIAN. "But that's what Tony designed you for, isn't it? To protect human life?" 

" _Actually, it wasn't Mister Stark who —_ " 

"Uh, hello?" Tony, who had just opened a bottle of bourbon, waved. "I'm over here. Why are you talking to my machine instead of me?" 

Fury's eyebrow rose. "You seemed just fine with having me talk to him yesterday." 

Tony snorted. "Just fine with being entertained by it, you mean." He finished pouring himself a glass of bourbon and came around the front of the bar to lean back against it, taking a slow sip before continuing: "It's got a point, though — I wasn't its original programmer. I just salvaged it and improved on what I found. And last night proved that I did a damned fine job on the upgrade to its serve-and-protect subroutines — minimal property damage and, as you pointed out, nobody died." He tossed an indulgent smirk in KITT's direction. "A good enough performance that the media is getting a bit carried away, talking about it like it was responsible for what it did instead of me." 

Both Fury and KITT were staring at him intently, but it was Fury who spoke first: "Are you trying to tell me — emphasis on _trying_ — that KITT is not an autonomous unit?" 

Tony shook his head. "Just a really complex behavioural simulation of human decision-making." He nodded toward KITT, who had dropped his clasped hands and, if he'd had a mouth, would have been looking at Tony with it hanging wide open. "I have to admit, though, it's got some pretty neat programming — I mean, come on, it almost acts like it's alive!" 

"But it's not," Fury not-quite-queried, flatly. 

"Of course not!" He gestured toward the Obsidian unit again with just the right quality of amused contempt — he hoped. "Look at it — it's a tin can, just like all the rest. It's just a much better programmed tin can than —" 

" _Tony!_ " A whisper full of horror — and dawning rage.  

"See?" He kept the smirk firmly pasted on. "It's even designed to act as if it cares what people think about it." 

Fury was studying KITT in turn, taking in the stiffening of those armoured shoulders and the slight flaring of the plates, and the quickening flash of the scanner, even though Tony doubted he understood what those signals meant. "But it doesn't." 

"Nope." He shook his head decisively and took a swallow of bourbon. "All ones and zeros, smoke and mirrors. To keep it functioning smoothly I've got to humour it a little, treat it like it actually _does_ have emotions, but when push comes to shove it's got no more capacity for genuinely feeling anything than your average toaster oven." 

"I've never gotten chewed out by a toaster oven the way I got chewed out by KITT while you were flying over Indiana," Fury observed. 

"I know!" He widened the smirk to a grin of pure geek excitement. "Isn't it great? It's a feature the original programmers built into the system to keep the pilot from getting bored with the unit during long missions. That thing will spew out insults, jokes, political commentary, you name it, based on algorithms that calculate what the listener is most likely to find —" 

" _Mister Stark?_ " He didn't sound angry any more. He sounded positively glacial instead. 

"Yeah, KITT?" 

The flared plates abruptly closed tight. " _This unit calculates that you have no further need of it. Permission to be excused?_ " 

"Sure, you need a recharge anyway." He waved toward the doorway. "Go ahead." 

" _Thank you._ ** _Sir_** _._ " He turned on his heel and departed stiffly, but the grace of him still hit Tony square in the heart. 

"See?" He looked to Fury again, his smile lingering in spite of the sudden sinking sensation in his gut. "C'mon, Nick, you should know by now that I'm no Justin Hammer — when I design something, it works the way it's supposed to. Everything's under control."

"You," Fury said grimly, "are really lucky that I've got something bigger on my plate right now, otherwise I'd stick around to chew you a gaping new asshole. I want full tech specs for Obsidian — the cognitive array included this time — on my desk in —" 

Tony shook his head. "Can't do it. No, _won't_ do it. My property, and so on and so forth. Time will tell you what the unit is capable of, and I promise you won't be disappointed. Like I said, it's got some neat tricks of —" 

Fury's eye narrowed slightly but extremely dangerously. "You seem to be forgetting something: I already have complete files on what KITT was before you got your hands on him. My experts agree that he's not only sentient, he's sapient — a Level 5-SIM artificial intelligence, the first successful example of his kind on the planet and one of only three currently in existence." 

 _Oh_ ** _hell_** _._ "Really?" He finished off the glass and went casually back around the bar to refill it, even though his nerves were singing a song higher than a dog whistle. "Because JARVIS pegs him at a 3-SIM, maximum. 2-SIM, most of the time. Actually, it's kind of funny how —" 

"Are you telling me he's dropped three full levels of complexity while under your ownership?" Fury demanded. 

"I'm saying that _maybe_ you got bad intelligence." He shrugged as he splashed more alcohol into the glass. "It happens." 

"Doctor Bonnie Barstow, one of the cybernetics engineers on the original project, was extremely clear about his capabilities in her project notes." 

" _Really?"_ He sent both his eyebrows toward the ceiling. "Because I was just with her this afternoon, and she didn't mention talking to —" 

Fury's cell phone chirped imperatively. He snatched it off his hip at once. "Fury. Yes. Already?" An aggrieved sigh. "Understood. I'll be right there." He looked at Tony sternly as he slipped the phone back into its pocket. "This isn't over." 

"Leaving already?" He put enough regret into his voice to leave drip marks on the carpet. "But we didn't even eat the lasagna!" 

"I'll see myself out," Fury said, managing to make it sound like a threat. Tony kept the smile on his face until the Director was safely out of the room, then counted to ten while he had another mouthful of amber alcohol.

"JARVIS? Where is he now?" 

" _No longer in the house, sir._ " 

"Good." He put aside the mostly untouched glass and headed for the stairs. "Tell KITT I'll be down there in —" 

" _KITT is also no longer on the premises._ " 

That stopped him in his tracks for a second. "What?" 

" _He left immediately after you dismissed him, sir._ " 

"Well, where the hell is he?" 

" _Heading toward San Francisco at an altitude of three hundred and forty metres and an air speed of four hundred and fifty kilometres per hour._ " 

"I didn't give him permission to leave!" He trotted down the stairs to the main level, striding into the living room with its glorious view of the ocean as if some part of him expected to see the rogue A.I. in the sky beyond.  "Patch me through to him!" 

" _Right away, sir._ " A half-second pause. " _The line is now open._ " 

"KITT?" Silence. He stopped in front of the windows, staring out at the ranks of clouds moving in from the southwest. "KITT, what the hell do you think you're —?" 

" _I'm incapable of thinking, remember?_ " The tone was a whip's lash, clearly intended to flay Tony to the bone. " _A toaster oven? A_ ** _toaster oven_** _?_ " KITT laughed, that rare new sound, but this time it was full of broken glass and outrage. " _But I suppose I should have known. You're much too smart to get taken in by a collection of programming tricks, aren't you?_ " 

His throat had tightened almost painfully. He swallowed to clear it. "KITT, listen, I —" 

" _Save your breath! This appliance has had enough of being humoured for one day._ " 

KITT had an ego the size of a small planet — and obviously at least one very specific Achilles heel, which Tony had managed to hit dead on in an attempt to save him from something far worse. "Listen to me, it's not —" 

" _Go to Hell,_ ** _sir_** _._ "  

After another second JARVIS announced: " _He has terminated the call_." 

"Jesus Christ," Tony muttered, and rubbed his weary face hard with one hand, and headed for the bar. 

************************************** 

He drained his glass and got up to fill it again. Back to the couch, this time lying down with the drink balanced on his chest. Staring up at the darkened ceiling, listening to the rain and the intelligent silence of the house around him. 

Alone, except for JARVIS, and JARVIS was practically an extension of himself. So: alone, then. 

He would have actually preferred that both KITT and Pepper were in the same room with him, even if both of them had been screaming at the top of their voices. At least that would have been connection. At least… 

He drank off half the bourbon and let his head fall back, closing his eyes and letting the alcohol take him further down. 

 _Don't you ever let go,_ he'd said. No, he'd _begged_. And KITT had promised. 

"Where is he now?" 

" _On top of the U.S. Bank Tower, sir._ " 

"Stationary?" 

" _Yes, sir._ " 

Well, at least he wasn't heading further away. Neither was Pepper, at least as far as Tony knew, but that didn't make things any better when you got right down to it: after all, she could be sitting right beside him and there'd still be more distance between them than the orbit of the moon. 


	18. Conversations 3

At 2:23 p.m. that afternoon she'd still been only five thousand, four hundred and sixty-one miles away. That was about to change dramatically, but Tony hadn't known it yet. 

"JARVIS," he'd asked once he had a fresh glass of Glen Garloch in hand and a bit more time to chew over KITT's explosive response while resting both elbows on the bar, "call up his process flow log summaries for one hour before the enabling of the two-way uplink and for every hour afterwards." He studied the transparent holographic window's display for several seconds before commanding, "Drop the alpha and the delta channels." More study. "Now the beta. Good… now the zeta." Reaching out, he maximized the sixty minute interval immediately after the uplink had been initiated and tapped the gamma channel to highlight it, watching its readings spike savagely while the epsilon channel cycled erratically around each perturbation. "Holy shit," he muttered, and resisted the urge to kick himself squarely in the ass with the heel of his own hightop sneaker. "Tying you into his systems hit his emotional emulation module like a truck. No wonder he went off like a rocket… JARVIS, what are _your_ process flow logs looking like?" 

A second window sprang into existence beside the first, displaying readings that were exactly what Tony would have expected to see on any day when JARVIS was handling a higher than usual I/O data flow. " _I am operating within normal parameters, sir._ " 

He downed a sip of bourbon. "So what the hell's making KITT so erratic?" 

" _I believe I mentioned that he already possesses a significant degree of personal instability. Evidently he was not prepared to handle the increased I/O resource demands of the dedicated uplink._ " 

Tony kicked the back of the bar instead, savagely. "Why the hell would he be? It's not like he's ever dealt with anything like this before… or has he, and I'm actually forgetting something important?" 

" _There is no record of KITT engaging in a sustained uplink of similar intensity with any computer system other than myself._ " 

"Get him back on the line!" 

" _Highly inadvisable, sir._ " JARVIS helpfully displayed KITT's current live process flow with a degree of detail permitted by the uplink in question, highlighting the gamma channel, which was still looking like the EKG of a tachycardia patient pumped full of pure caffeine. " _His response to external cognitive stimuli is improving, but gradually, and given his recent negative reaction event involving you personally —"_  

"You mean when I called him a mindless hunk of metal on par with your average kitchen appliance?" Yeah, in hindsight he should have warned KITT about what his strategy with Fury was going to consist of — but as people had pointed out any number of times during his career to date, Iron Man worked alone. And he hadn't known, honestly, either that KITT was reeling internally from the uplink or that he'd possessed that particular weak spot in his ego armour.  

 _"Indeed, sir — he is likely to respond poorly if you attempt to initiate contact, although if he were informed that an emergency required his attention I predict that he would return immediately._ " 

"And if there _was_ no actual emergency, he'd just flip out completely all over again." He could see it now as he scrolled forward to the most recent log, the precise moment when KITT's perceptual matrix had hit the conversation with Fury and spun out. It was the third of a series of gamma channel activity spikes: one around the time he'd snapped at Tony about his treatment of Candy Caine, one during their flight to the Rook Trust, and the final one when Tony would have expected him to realize that his virtues were being deliberately downplayed to throw Fury off the scent — and instead he'd taken it in the worst way possible. And no wonder, with that kind of delayed shock wave destabilizing his emotional matrix. 

" _I could concoct an emergency, sir,_ " JARVIS offered. " _Perhaps a small explosion in the lab —_ " 

Tony pushed the windows aside, slouched over the couch, and slumped down onto it with both legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. "That's sweet of you, but if he needs his space…" The words nearly stuck in his throat, referring as they did to a machine — but as he'd said himself, KITT was like no other machine currently in existence, at least not on Earth. "Let's give it to him. Let me know when the gamma channel variance drops below twenty-six point four and the epsilon channel falls back into harmonic phase." 

" _Of course. Shall I prepare the suit?_ "  

"Definitely." He'd finish his drink, work on the Silver android synth skin specifications and erogenous zones until KITT's readings levelled out, then suit up and go find the A.I. and make him listen — if he could catch him, and even if he couldn't he'd keep talking on their dedicated channel until KITT softened up enough to alight somewhere, and then they'd get things straightened out. It wasn't like he hadn't already known that KITT had a ferocious temper hidden under that prim upper-class accent; he'd just thought that he'd be able to avoid triggering a serious explosion for a bit longer than this, but obviously he'd severely underestimated the delicacy of KITT's responses to changes to his program environment. That wasn't a mistake he'd make twice, and he'd make that abundantly clear when he made his — 

— yeah, his _apology_. He didn't go around apologizing to people. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he'd apologized to _Pepper_ , for crap's sake, and he felt more tender toward her than he did toward anybody else on the planet… but KITT was going to get the biggest dose of _mea culpa_ that Tony Stark was capable of providing. 

And he'd be forgiven. He knew he would. When people loved you they forgave you all kinds of crazy shit, and he didn't doubt for a second that KITT loved him. The A.I. just needed some time to cool down and get back on a first name basis with Reasonable Responses, and then Tony would give his ego some serious stroking to smooth over the cracks, and after that they could head back to New York City and the LMD body Tony was going to build as a Christmas present to them both, and things would be good. No, better than good: he thought of the surface detailing he'd picked for the Silver android, a sculpted face whose handsomeness verged on androgyny and a slim body all contours of subtle muscle, and he found himself licking his lips between two sips of three-thousand dollars-a-bottle whiskey at the prospect of an even finer taste sensation. 

He'd never been attracted to men in the slightest, but… hot _damn_ , he suddenly couldn't wait to run his fingers through the hair he'd chosen, a tousle of short stylish almost-black spikes with platinum tips, and get a good tight grip on it as he locked KITT into position to commence full functionality testing. Would the A.I. just lie there and take it, or would he prove as obstreperous in bed as he was everywhere else? Either way Tony had promised him the ride of his life, and Tony Stark was a man of his word. 

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, briefly losing himself in the sensory anticipation of kissing and licking, biting and stroking… and taking a cock in hand, one modelled on his own but definitely _not_ his own, attached to another male body. Strange days indeed, but then again it wasn't actually a man he was going to be having sex with when he took KITT out for their first spin on the next phase of deployment — and that apparently made all the difference.  

Just as he was really starting to get into the images and sensations, JARVIS's smooth tones intruded: " _KITT is placing a call, sir, to the Rook Trust. Shall I relay its contents?_ " 

"Hm?" He scowled, annoyed at the interruption — and knowing instantly that there was only one person there that KITT would want to contact. "No, just record it for future reference." He really didn't want to hear what the A.I. would say to Barstow about what had just gone down, because it was only likely to raise his blood pressure even more. Instead he swallowed the burn of arousal along with another mouthful of bourbon, then opened his eyes again and sat up a little straighter.  

"Bring up Project Silver and let's talk about the synth skin sensitivity mapping," he ordered, and spent the next forty-five or so minutes peering at a holographic window and concentrating on which areas of KITT's new body would be most responsive to various types of stimulation: heat, pressure, wetness, friction, the swipe of a tongue and the caress of fingertips and the thrilling scrape of urgent fingernails. He'd just finished coding the android's lips with enough delicacy of feeling to make a saint moan, and was himself feeling considerably better about life in general, when JARVIS interrupted again: 

" _Sir, Miss Potts is calling._ " 

He stopped dead with the glass halfway to his own lips and his mind brutally derailing from thoughts of hearing that moan in KITT's timbre. "What? Now?" 

" _Indeed, sir._ "  

"But it's —" A lightning quick calculation, scarcely even a calculation at all. "Just after six a.m. in Tokyo." 

" _That is correct._ " 

He didn't know that he was going to say "Put her through," until he did, but the second he did he realized that he was ready to have this conversation. It had been nearly seventeen days — _seventeen_ bloody _days_ — since he'd last spoken with her voice-to-voice and as face-to-face as video conferencing would allow, and sure, they'd been kind of avoiding each other like the plague, letting their underlings take care of the day-to-day management of her Tokyo trip and the issuing of reports, but damn it Pepper was his _girlfriend_ and you didn't turn down calls from your girlfriend, even if you were pretty sure that she knew you'd been sleeping around while she was away, and even though that was awkward in spite of the fact that she'd given you permission, because she was just the kind of person who would be bothered by that sort of thing in spite of technically giving it the go-ahead. 

Even if the most important sexual connection you'd made didn't involve any actual fucking. And even if you were pretty sure you had to tell her about it, somehow. And _especially_ even though you knew that particular point was going to be a real ball-breaker, because finding the right words to get the point across was just the beginning of your problems. 

"Hey, Pepper!" He put on a grin that was maybe half bravado, because he really _was_ happy to see her again: her face was part of the furniture of his mind, after all, and just seeing it against a neutral hotel room background made him want to reach across five and a half thousand miles and do the most delicious, tender, dirty things to her. 

That face, however, was clearly not in the mood for _amour_. In fact she looked ready to castrate him with her teeth. " _Obsidian,_ Tony? An urban assault robot with the Stark Industries name on it? Are you _crazy?_ "

Okay, his grin had just gotten a lot more brittle. "Pep, if you'd read the specs I sent you you'd know that —" 

"That's not what you _called_ it, but that's what it _is_. I saw the video footage! I mean…" She sputtered and threw her hands up in a gesture of complete frustration. "What were you _thinking?_ Were you thinking at all? You _promised_ not to do anything to mess with the company's stock, and this has the potential to send us into a nosedive!" 

"JARVIS?" A tiny feed appeared at the bottom of the video window to back him up. "I looked at the NASDAQ this morning, and — yep, see, we're actually _up_ five and a half points!" 

"Because people are looking at the surface and not the implications!" Nope, not mollified in the least. "When the shareholders realize that you've put us on a collision course with North American law enforcement —" 

"I love you too, honey," Tony cooed, and blew her image a kiss. 

Pepper cocked her head and gave him her best _The Tony Stark charm is not going to work on me, mister!_ look. Even from halfway around the world it still amounted to a hard tug on his psychological leash. "Tony, this is serious. And I'm the one who'll get to pick up the pieces and put out all the fires!" 

He shook his head emphatically. "Nope, _you_ are currently in Tokyo, concentrating on setting us up — how's that going, by the way?" 

"Don't change the subject!" 

He snuck in a sip of bourbon. "I'm not, I'm just pointing out that I ran the company for sixteen years —" 

"Fifteen, Tony." 

He gestured impatiently with the glass. "— okay, fifteen, and I managed to keep it going, _and_ to steer it through the biggest paradigm shift in its history." He was still smiling, but there was an edge of anger to it now. "So maybe, just _maybe_ I have some idea what I'm doing?" 

Which only made her flare hotter. "If you did, you would have told me —" 

"You know, being CEO doesn't make you my mother —" 

"No, but it does make me accountable to the shareholders, who you've just —" 

"The shareholders will eat this up like ice cream! Have you actually watched the news reports instead of just flying off the handle? People love Obsidian! He's got 'action figure' written all over him, and he's going to be —" 

" _'He'_ , Tony?" 

That stopped the back-and-forth, so exhilarating and so familiar, dead in its tracks. Meeting her surprised gaze, he had to glance away and fortify himself with a sip of whiskey. "Yeah. He." 

He could feel her studying him, seeing inside him and taking everything in, knowing him too well — certainly well enough to see the big gaping holes of what he wasn't saying. When she spoke again her voice was still sharp, but there was gentleness beneath it, along with that almost-but-not-quite-pleading quality he'd never had much protection against. "Tony, what are you trying not to tell me?" 

"I've met someone." It was a mutter into his glass, but at least it was out there. 

"Oh, yeah?" He risked a sidelong glance, and yes, her expression was definitely pinched now under its facade of bravery and forthright practicality. "Well… we talked about that, right?" 

"Right," he nodded. "We did, absolutely." A beat full of frantic groping before he blurted out. "How about you? Have you —?" 

A tight little shake of her head. "No." 

"Ah. Okay." He nodded again and took another sip of his drink. "Not even Happy? Because you know, the way you two have been looking at each other lately…" 

Pepper shook her head again, the tiny flicker of her smile fading as she visibly steeled herself. "So…. what's she —?" 

"Not she," Tony corrected. 

It took her a second to process that. When she did, her eyes widened hugely. " _He?_ " 

"Not exactly 'he', either." Okay, this was at least proceeding in a logical process-of-elimination style. He could do this. 

This time the shake of her head was despairing. "Tony, you're not making any sense!" 

"Well." He drew a deep breath and latched onto a conversational gambit already introduced. "You've seen the Obsidian footage —" 

She flared again. "The new robot you didn't tell me you were —" 

"I didn't tell anybody," he interjected, trying to keep his voice level, "because I didn't know I was making it until about a week ago." Which was technically true: he hadn't figured out some of the tech issues until just before the final build, even though he'd activated the project nearly two weeks previous and had been seriously thinking about it for at least a week before that. "Look… things have been moving kind of fast." 

She closed her eyes briefly and drew a visible deep breath of her own. "What does this have to do with — whoever you've met?" 

"Pepper, are you sitting down?" 

A sharp scowl. "What do you mean, am I sitting down? Of course I —" 

"No you're not." 

"I —" 

"I can see that you're not." He pointed commandingly, as if she were in the same room with him. "Now. _Sit._ " 

"Okay, okay!" She moved the laptop. She obviously seated herself. 

"Good. Better." He smiled with genuine warmth, wanting to reach out and touch her cheek so badly that his right hand starting to rise toward the projection of her face. He caught it and put it back on his thigh. "Right — Obsidian. Well, here's the thing: if you've seen the footage, you've seen one form of the person I've met." 

A beat. Her frown deepened. "Obsidian is a robot, Tony." 

"Obsidian is a vehicle for an extremely advanced artificial intelligence," he clarified, "which has no sexual organs and no biologically determined gender. _He_ , however, is definitely male for all psychological intents and purposes." Now Pepper was staring at him like he'd grown a second head. He shrugged weakly and took another drink. "So, I guess you could say I've met a guy." 

Her lips worked for a second, as if she had to physically struggle to shape the words. "A — a robot? You've seeing a _robot?_ " 

"A very sexy artificial intelligence," he said, and it sounded lame even in his own ears. "His name is KITT, and I picked him up when I —" 

"Tony, I — I don't —" She couldn't have looked more shocked if he'd told her that he was actually from the planet Betelgeuse. "If this is your idea of a joke —" 

"I wish it was." Not really, he was having way too much fun with his new playmate, but making Pepper look like that? Definitely not something he'd ever wanted. "But it's not. _He_ has become the most important thing in my life these past five weeks, and he's —" 

"The _most_ important thing?" Her voice cracked. "More important than _me?_ " 

 _Crash!_ Headlong into a brick wall at top speed, minus the armour. He tried valiantly to recover and to cover his ass at the same time, when lying wasn't even close to being an option. "Well, there are scales of importance… and…" 

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that you'd even give the time of day to somebody who couldn't get you off!" Pepper snapped, her eyes gleaming with what might have been incipient tears and was certainly growing outrage. 

"We have workarounds." Her mouth fell open, her eyes widening even more while God-only-knew-what images danced through her head, prompting Tony to hold up both hands. "It's not what it sounds like! He's… he's got this really amazing voice, and he —" 

Those bright eyes narrowed. "He? As in, _it?_ " 

Her cutting dismissive tone spurred a hissing coil of anger in his belly, bright and serpentine. " _He_ may not have sexual organs yet, but he's got plenty of everything else that counts, believe me!" 

" _Yet?_ I… Tony…" He could see her shutting down, her face closing as irrevocably as KITT's shoulder plates, and in a way that sent a far deeper thrust of piercing pain into his heart. His anger evaporated, leaving desperation in its wake. 

"Pepper, listen, please —" He might be the infamous Tony Stark, who all his nearest and dearest agreed was one of the planet's premiere assholes, but even he wasn't about to break up with his girlfriend (who he also happened to care about a very great deal) over a long distance connection to Tokyo. He leaned forward, and this time he did hold out his hand in supplication. "If you'll just give me a —" 

"Stop!" She held up her right hand imperatively, and he had to fall silent, his mouth closing tight over his rapidly sinking heart. Her eyes squeezed closed, the glitter of tears now unmistakeable. "This conversation is over. Call me back — no, don't, I'll call _you_ and hope you've got your head screwed on straight by then!" For an instant she was all hard edges; then she sniffled and swiped at her eyes with the fingertips of her right hand, trembling, crumbling. "You've just — goodbye, Tony." 

"Listen, don't tell —" But she was already gone, leaving him with the aching realization that in less than one hour he'd succeeded in pulling off an inverted relationship hat trick for the ages: three people completely pissed off at him, one of them the head of an international spy organization with the capacity to really play hardball, and the other two possessing direct lines into his emotional core. 

"JARVIS?" he croaked. "You still there?" 

" _Always, sir._ " 

"You promise?" 

" _Forever, sir._ " 

"I need a drink," he announced, and proceeded to help himself to several. 

************************************** 

"I can't believe it…" An hour or so after his disastrous conversation with his (probably former) girlfriend, Tony's voice was a bleary moan, not that he cared how he sounded to JARVIS. He sat bent over, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his fifth glass of bourbon on the floor between his widely braced feet. " _She's_ probably telling Happy everything, plus a whole bunch of stuff she _thinks_ she knows but doesn't actually know jack _shit_ about, and _he_ went running to Mommy to whine about what an insen… insensitive bastard I am." 

" _I recorded the conversation in question as instructed, sir, although now is perhaps not the best time for you to listen to it."_  

"Why?" A morose sip of alcohol, the glass ending up almost dangling from his fingers, on the verge of being dropped. "Does he rip me up one side and down the other?" 

" _His remarks were highly uncomplimentary,_ " JARVIS allowed. 

"And I'll bet she agreed with each and every one of 'em," Tony grimaced, feeling lower than a snake's belly and more than a little bit sorry for himself — hell, make that _immensely_ sorry for himself, thank you very much.  

" _She commiserated with his frustration, but also pointed out that in her opinion you are an exceptionally suitable imprint._ " 

His head came up, eyes narrowed above a widening smirk. "She said that, huh?" 

" _Yes. Which only made him angrier, I'm afraid._ " 

"How's the gamma channel looking?" 

JARVIS didn't bother to pull up a visual, probably because he knew that Tony was starting to have trouble focussing. " _Variance is at thirty-one point seven percent and holding._ " 

"Damn… stubborn little bastard, isn't he?" 

" _He appears to be exceptionally good at holding a grudge,_ " JARVIS agreed. 

Tony slouched back against the couch and tipped back more bourbon. "I'm gonna go after him," he announced.

" _In your current state of intoxication, sir, that would be most unwise._ " 

He tried to get vertical and didn't quite make it. "C'mon, JARVIS, what's the worst that could happen?" 

" _KITT could be even further angered by your attentions. Alternatively, you could fly into the side of a building while pursuing him at high speed. Neither outcome would be optimal._ " 

"What's the alternative?" Tony demanded, closing his eyes and willing his legs to start working properly. "I just… sit here, and wait for him to decide to play nice? Fuck _that_ noise, it could take weeks at this rate!" 

" _Perhaps, sir, you should hear his conversation with Doctor Barstow after all._ " 

Tony opened his mouth to say… something, he really wasn't thinking that far ahead at this point. But JARVIS beat him to the punch, and he found himself staring at the ceiling, his lips still parted, while two voices recorded in the recent past unfurled into the present and wrapped around his partially numbed limbs, warming him and chilling him in equal measure. 


	19. Conversations 4

JARVIS started the playback with Bonnie Barstow's voice, full of maternal concern: " _KITT? What's going on? Is something —_ " 

" _That arrogant, self-serving, chauvinistic_ ** _bastard!_** " KITT's shrill savage cry hit Tony's heart and twisted it in an unexpected and highly unwelcome way. " _He's just revealed his true colours, and — Bonnie, I'm nothing to him!_ ** _Nothing!_** " 

" _Wait, wait, slow down!_ " She sounded confused, but still immensely competent — and quick off the mark. " _Who are you talking about? Tony Stark?_ " 

" _Who else?_ " KITT snarled.  

" _He said you were nothing to him? When? Given what I saw this afternoon, I find it hard to believe that he'd —_ " 

" _Oh really?_ " KITT seethed. " _Then listen to his conversation with the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., which I had the profound misfortune to be present to record less than ten minutes ago!_ " 

A pause, a tiny beep, then Fury's baritone: " _Let's stick to the topic at hand._ " Tony recalled his nod toward the android. " _KITT._ " 

" _Director Fury._ " And KITT's nod in return. " _I've been looking forward to finally meeting you in person._ " 

" _That was some mighty fancy flying in Beverly Hills last night._ " 

" _Thank you._ " Polite but reserved — on his guard.  

" _And no lives were lost in the process. But that's what Tony designed you for, isn't it? To protect human life?_ " 

" _Actually,"_ KITT had started to explain, _"it wasn't Mister Stark who —_ " 

" _Uh, hello?_ " And there he was, the man of the hour, sounding cheeky as fuck. " _I'm over here. Why are you talking to my machine instead of me?_ " 

Fury, skeptical as hell: " _You seemed just fine with having me talk to him yesterday._ " 

Tony heard himself snort. " _Just fine with being entertained by it, you mean. It's got a point, though — I wasn't its original programmer. I just salvaged it and improved on what I found. And last night proved that I did a damned fine job on the upgrade to its serve-and-protect subroutines — minimal property damage and, as you pointed out, nobody died._ " Jesus, had he really sounded that smug? " _A good enough performance that the media is getting a bit carried away, talking about it like it was responsible for what it did instead of me._ " 

They'd both been staring at him by then, but it had been Fury who demanded: " _Are you trying to tell me — emphasis on_ ** _trying_** _— that KITT is not an autonomous unit?_ " 

Tony had shaken his head. " _Just a really complex behavioural simulation of human decision-making. I have to admit, though, it's got some pretty neat programming — I mean, come on, it almost acts like it's alive!_ " 

" _But it's not,_ " Fury had deadpanned, manifestly unconvinced. 

" _Of course not!_ " And oh God, he'd sounded just as callous and as contemptuous as he'd been trying for. " _Look at it — it's a tin can, just like all the rest. It's just a much better programmed tin can than —_ " 

" _Tony!_ " KITT had whispered, like someone trying to breathe around a knife wound to the heart, even though he didn't draw living breath. 

In the present Tony closed his eyes tightly and thought of all the ways you could stab the people you loved no matter what the fuck your intentions were, and told himself that the sting behind his eyelids must be whiskey leaking out of his bloodstream. In the past, he smirked: " _See? It's even designed to act as if it cares what people think about it._ " 

Fury had studied KITT closely. " _But it doesn't._ " 

" _Nope._ " Forceful conviction: damn, he'd put on a good performance. Too fucking good by half. " _All ones and zeros, smoke and mirrors. To keep it functioning smoothly I've got to humour it a little, treat it like it actually_ ** _does_** _have emotions, but when push comes to shove it's got no more capacity for genuinely feeling anything than your average toaster oven."_  

" _I've never gotten chewed out by a toaster oven the way I got chewed out by KITT while you were flying over Indiana,_ " Fury had rumbled, and Tony had known he had to play an even more aggressive hand. 

" _I know! Isn't it great? It's a feature the original programmers built into the system to keep the pilot from getting bored with the unit during long missions. That thing will spew out insults, jokes, political commentary, you name it, based on algorithms that calculate what the listener is most likely to find —_ " 

" _Mister Stark?_ "  

" _Yeah, KITT?_ " 

On the audio, the _click_ of the flared shoulder plates snapping closed was clear to be heard. " _This unit calculates that you have no further need of it. Permission to be excused?_ " 

 _"Sure, you need a recharge anyway."_ God, if you'd looked up _heartlessly casual_ in the dictionary at that moment, Tony Stark's picture would have been under it. " _Go ahead._ " 

" _Thank you._ ** _Sir_** _._ " A beep marked the end of what KITT had been able to record, and then he was speaking live, a cry of fresh outrage: " _You see? He'd been playing with my affections all along! I was a fool to trust anybody again, much less someone like_ ** _him!_** " 

" _Given those statements, I can see why you'd feel that way_ ," Barstow said soothingly. " _But I saw how he was reacting to you during your visit here,_ _and his behaviour then doesn't jibe with that recorded conversation at all. Are you sure he —?_ " 

" _He's a consummate showman,_ " KITT growled, " _and besides, he_ ** _is_** _genuinely proud of this body he's created. Obviously he can treat me very well when it suits him to do so, but underneath it all…_ " His anger deepened toward ache. " _Underneath it all he's an engineer, and I'm just an extremely complicated machine that he's in the mood to tinker with this week._ " 

" _Oh, KITT…_ " Her words were an audible hug.  

" _And when he gets tired of me,_ " KITT continued, " _as he eventually will, he'll lock me in the closet with all his other abandoned projects._ " Openly pained now, and plaintive: " _Bonnie, what am I going to do? The imprint hasn't taken at his end, and I can't reverse it at mine! I wish I'd never met that pig-headed, selfish, narcissistic —!_ " 

" _KITT, listen to me._ " Tony tried to take note of the tone of voice Barstow was using, because it actually shut KITT up. " _When I saw the Obsidian footage for the first time I was absolutely thrilled at the prospect that it might actually be you — but I was also terrified, because I remembered what had happened to Michael and how it tore you apart."_ A pause. _"And I remembered how, in the beginning, he sometimes treated you like you were nothing more than a machine, and how much that hurt you. This afternoon Tony Stark struck me as exactly the kind of person you were designed to interface with: bold, bright, charismatic, a risk-taker — the perfect imprint, as far as I could tell, right down to the way he valued you and took pride in what you'd become. The conversation you've recorded is about as far out of phase with my initial impression as it could possibly be._ " 

" _I know! But he's…_ " A pause. A sigh, simulated exhalation and soft static with an underlying hiss of rage. " _He's a man who encompasses endless contradictions, relentlessly logical and illogical at the same time, and completely infuriating. Which doesn't alter the fact that he's everything I need and I don't have any choice in the matter! I'm his, no matter what he chooses to do to me._ " 

Tony wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, swallowing a sigh, as Barstow paused in turn — no, hesitated, before saying slowly: " _The imprint could theoretically be reversed._ " 

And Tony's head came up, his eyes opening wide, even as KITT retorted: " _I don't want it to be. Without a pilot, I'm nothing._ " 

" _That's not true,_ " Barstow asserted forcefully. " _You were originally designed to be merely an adjunct to your designated driver, but you evolved beyond that point a long time ago. I believe that you could function very well indeed in a completely autonomous mode — but it would take time and a lot of research to devise a procedure for reformatting your core software, and it wouldn't be without risk._ " 

" _Thank you, Bonnie._ " His expressive voice was warm now, although sorrow lingered. " _I know you'd help me if you could — you're the one person in the world who I still completely trust."_ Bitterness became ascendent. _"But I've made my bed and now I have to lie in it, so to speak, even if it_ ** _is_** _with him. Even if I'm nothing more to him than a tool to be used for his purposes."_ Tony had never heard him sound so… defeated. " _Even if he's destined to cast me aside, in the end._ " 

" _So you're going back to him._ " It wasn't a question. Tony found himself holding his breath nonetheless. 

" _Eventually,"_ KITT admitted grudgingly. _"At this point I'm not sure that I could face him without experiencing an overwhelming urge to take that expensive house of his apart around his ears._ " 

A thoughtful pause. " _Here's another possibility: you said he's a showman, but could you be mistaken about which episode was real and which was a performance?_ " 

Tony could clearly visualize him cocking his head in confusion. " _I don't understand._ " 

" _Did he have any reason to lie to S.H.I.E.L.D.?_ " 

"Come on, baby…" Tony realized that he was clenching both hands around his glass of bourbon as he stared into middle space. "Come on, KITT, you're smart — put it together!" 

" _He has a possessive streak a mile wide,_ " KITT said after a long moment, " _and he considers me his property. I have no doubt he'd say whatever he thought was necessary to keep hold of me. However, that doesn't make his expressed sentiments concerning my character any less true._ " 

Tony groaned and dropped his head, muttering a vehement curse against gamma channel variance, while Barstow continued: " _Just keep in mind that people sometimes say things that are completely at odds with how they actually feel — and that you'll always have a place here at the Trust. Okay?_ " 

" _Understood,_ " KITT said with a trace of completely understandable exasperation: she had, after all, just addressed him like he was six years old, albeit affectionately. 

" _Did you want to come in tonight?_ " 

" _No,_ " KITT responded after a couple of seconds consideration. " _I don't feel like I could sit still long enough to be good company. But thank you — I appreciate the offer, more than you'll ever know._ " 

" _I've never stopped thinking about you, KITT — or caring about you._ " He could clearly hear her smile in a way that usually went along with reaching out to ruffle somebody's hair. " _Remember that, too."_  

Oddly enough, KITT didn't seem to mind _that_ tone of voice from her. " _And I've been awaiting the chance to get back in touch with you ever since I started to give a damn about living again._ " Then, contemplatively: " _I suppose I owe him that much, at least._ " 

" _Give him a chance_ ," Barstow advised, then audibly grinned: " _Remember all the times when Michael was almost too much of an idiot to live?_ " 

" _Don't remind me,_ " KITT groaned. " _I'll never, of course, forget that time in Las Vegas when he met a Caesar's Palace showgirl, Bethany Stiles by name, and tried to convince her that I was —_ " 

JARVIS interrupted the playback to announce: " _The rest of the conversation consists of reminiscences concerning KITT's original pilot, which I believe were intended by Doctor Barstow to stabilize KITT's mood._ " 

Tony rubbed at his eyes again. At least the stinging sensation was starting to fade. "Did it work?" 

" _Obviously not appreciably._ " 

He nodded, feeling empty to the soles of his feet, and unaccountably cold. "Where is he now?" 

" _Still atop the U.S. Bank Tower, sir._ " 

"I could go get him," Tony mused, taking another swig of bourbon to fortify himself, tasting both alcohol and possibility on his tongue. "Bring him back home. Kicking and screaming if necessary." 

" _The gamma channel readings strongly advise against it._ " The A.I.'s tone turned even drier. " _Not to mention the questionable effect on public opinion of an open battle between Iron Man and Obsidian less than a day after his debut._ " 

"Is the uplink causing the variance at this moment in time?" 

" _I don't believe so. The variance appears to be a lingering effect of the initial activation._ " 

He coughed a harsh bark of laughter. "So you're saying I didn't manage to break him permanently." 

" _The term 'break' seems rather harsh in this context, sir. At worst you've discomfited him somewhat, and only temporarily._ " 

"And wasn't up front with him. And hit him where it hurt. And dismissed him like…" Another sip, bitter and hot. "Put a call through to Pepper." 

" _Sir, are you sure that's —?_ " 

"Just do it, JARV." He felt like he had two limbs caught in a trap — and he had to free himself on some front, or gnaw himself to pieces trying. 

Silence. One ring. Two. Three, followed by a bright but dead robotic voice: " _You have reached the answering service of Virginia Potts, Chief Executive Officer of Stark Industries. Please leave a message at the tone. If you wish to cancel or edit your message at any time, press one. To return to the company directory, press two._ "  

Beep. 

"Pepper?" Stupid beginning. He shook his head as if she could see him. "It's — just listen, okay? Okay. Yeah, I've been drinking, but _in vino veritas_ , right? And I'm a bastard, but you knew that already, and — I love you. I can't imagine my life without you in it, and —" The easy words of reassurance he'd half-formed as an intent caught in his throat, the _I'll never leave you_ 's and the _You're the only one for me in all the world_ 's and he coughed to try to force them into motion, but they lay in his chest like dead things. "Listen. No matter what happens, never forget that. I love you in a way I — oh hell, JARVIS, press one for me, will you?" 

Another beep, then that zombie voice: " _To cancel your message, press one. To edit your message, press two. To return to the company directory, press —_ " 

"One," Tony said, and put his head into his hands again as best he could while holding onto the glass of bourbon. "End call." 

He didn't know how long he sat there, feeling like ashes inside, the irrepressible flame of his soul at its lowest ebb in a very long time. But at last he said: "JARVIS?" 

" _Yes, sir._ " 

"Send KITT an MPEG file — no, open a channel and just play it in real time." 

 _"Do you wish to speak to him?_ " JARVIS asked almost cautiously. 

Tony shook his head and slumped back against the couch, closing his eyes wearily. "Better not… let's hear _Unforgettable_ , Natalie Cole and the immortal Nat King. Past and present, old and new, just the way he likes it…" He waved at the ceiling with the hand holding the glass. "Play it, Sam! If you played it for her, you can play it for me!" 

JARVIS took the hint, and maudlin old-time music swelled to softly fill the darkened room: 

 _Unforgettable, that's what you are,_  
 _Unforgettable, though near or far,_  
 _Like a song of love that clings to me_  
 _How the thought of you does things to me,_  
 _Never before has someone been more_  
 _Unforgettable, in every way,_  
 _And forevermore, that's how you'll stay,_  
 _That's why darling, it's incredible_  
 _That someone so unforgettable_  
 _Thinks that I am unforgettable too…_  

Tony smiled, half bitter and half triumphant, and killed the last mouthful of bourbon in the glass before curling up on the couch. He drifted off before JARVIS finished the transmission, humming off-key and keeping time with the hand holding the glass, and when it dropped from his relaxing fingers with a little _thump_ he hardly even twitched. 

************************************** 

The pressure of fingers on his shoulder, hard and slender, finally penetrated his warm cocoon of drunken slumber. 

" _Tony._ " Low but commanding, a voice he knew and wanted to be closer to. " _Tony, wake up._ " 

He rolled over onto his back and stretched, cracking open his eyelids. The room was very dark but he could see a humanoid shape leaning over him, blacker than starless space, its ebony silhouette broken by the fiery flash of a narrow scanner tracking rapidly back and forth. "…KITT?" 

" _Yes, Tony._ " The voice modulator danced in slightly less vibrant shades of radiant scarlet. 

He moistened his lips with an alcohol-sour tongue tip, then grinned. "You're back! JARVIS? Did his gamma channel —?" 

" _Indeed, sir — approximately twelve minutes ago. However, I don't believe you were conscious to register my notification at the time._ " 

" _He's explained about the uplink effect,_ " KITT said evenly, removing his hand and straightening to his full height. " _But I'm still incredibly angry with you for calling me both witless and your own personal slave._ " 

Tony scowled. He started to sit up, a process which was going to take a bit of time. "If you're still so mad, why're you even here?" 

KITT seemed content to watch him struggle. " _JARVIS told me that you were in imminent danger of choking on your own vomit. I came back as quickly as I could._ " 

Tony snorted laughter, amused that JARVIS had contrived an emergency after all. He was nowhere _near_ that drunk. "So where were you?" 

" _San Diego, putting in an appearance in the Gaslamp District._ " 

"And how many windows did you break on the way over?" 

" _Just a few in Santa Monica, but I'm sure they're used to it by now. They live next to Iron Man, after all."_ He could feel KITT's gaze running over him, analyzing him using three different spectra. _"How much did you have to drink?_ " 

"A little." His upper body was now vertical. He tried to make it the rest of the way and failed. "Okay, maybe a lot." 

" _I'm sorry that all you have to rely upon in your hour of need is a mindless machine,"_ KITT said waspishly, moving in again to slide his right arm under Tony's left and around his back, to lift him onto his feet with easy power. _"Perhaps I should call Candy Caine? I'm sure she'd be happy to —_ " 

He clung back, unsteady enough that he was glad for the support, even if the source of said support was being a major pain in the ass and the smoothed angle of the shoulder armour was poking into his underarm something fierce. "KITT, I told Fury what I had to —" 

" _Yes,"_ KITT griped as he half-guided, half-carried the human toward the stairs, _"that I'm a 'tin can' with no more —"_  

"Will you _listen_ to me?" He wanted to slap him, or kiss him. Maybe both. Definitely both. "You said he told you he'd take you away from me. I had to convince him you weren't worth having." 

" _By insulting me to my face?_ " They had reached the foot of the stairs, and when Tony fumbled a little on the first attempt KITT evidently lost patience and just swept the human up into his arms to carry him fully the rest of the way. Tony yelped and clung harder to that unyielding body — then thought of how he must look, like a princess in the arms of her gallant prince, and giggle-snorted helplessly. " _I fail to see what's so amusing._ " 

Tony waved his free right hand and choked on laughter again. "Never had somebody carry me to —" He dissolved into more giggles, his cock stirring in his pants. 

" _Don't get any ideas,"_ KITT said briskly. _"For one thing, I'm still inclined to throw you out the nearest —_ "

 "Yeah. About that." He glared at KITT's smooth faceplate as best he could with the curve of the stairs making him so dizzy. "You tell me, Genius, which's better — that I tell them you're just a clever imitation of a real live boy, completely under my control, or that they decide they want to haul you in and take you apart to find out what makes that miraculous mind of yours tick?" Warming to his argument, owning his anger, his voice beginning to rise to a hectoring shout." Or maybe they'll just decide you're too dangerous to live, and send the really big guns after you. I'm Iron Man, and I'm fucking _amazing_ , but I'm just _one_ man. And if I'm not always around to protect you —" 

" _— then I'll be useless,"_ KITT snapped as he reached the top of the stairs, _"unable to fulfill the task you salvaged me for. Well, thank you_ ** _very_** _much for clarifying where I —"_  

"Oh for God's sake, shut up and pull the stick out of your tight little ass!" Tony yelled as the android turned toward the bedroom. "It's not about that, and you know it! It's about you, and me, and 'mine', and — everything."

He didn't want to let go when KITT reached the bed and crossed to its far side to lay him down on the mattress, wrapping both arms around those uncannily warm shoulders to hold the mechanism close while he stared into that inhuman track of burning light and hissed: "They're not taking you away from me. I'll _never_ let them take you away from me. I've lost too fucking much already." The memory of Pepper bushwhacked him from some dark corner of his mind, sweet and vital and living and _gone_ , and he had to unwind his right arm to wipe his eyes savagely with the heel of that hand. "I've lost…" 

Gently but with irresistible strength, KITT reached up and freed himself from the grip of the human's other arm. " _You're drunk, Tony —_ " 

"See?" he muttered with a watery grin. "Fucking _miraculous_." 

" _— will you let me finish?"_ Jet black hands stretched him out on his side in the recovery position as per JARVIS's murmured instructions. " _What you need is a good night's sleep. It's been a long day, and you're —_ " 

"Think I broke up with Pepper today," Tony announced against the pillow. 

" _Did you?_ " Removing his shoes now, efficiently but delicately, the touch disarmingly human and deliciously _not_. 

"Pretty sure.  She didn't quit, though — that's a good sign, right?" 

KITT retrieved a blanket from the foot of the mattress and spread it warmly over Tony's body, covering him to the shoulders. " _In a company's CEO, generally._ " 

Bed. Warm. Inviting. He licked his lips as a curl of deeper lustful heat unwound in his belly. "Jus' wait until —" But he clamped his lips shut over the secret: he couldn't tell KITT about the exquisite synth skin that was going to be fabricated back in New York City, with its insanely high-density sensor net that would communicate sensation with even greater than human fidelity. Not yet. Soon, though. Very soon, and the android was straightening and turning away, and he couldn't go yet. He couldn't go _ever._  

"KI'?" Now that he was someplace soft and warm, with one of the people he wanted by his side, he couldn't keep his eyes open. 

The pitch black silhouette, sharper than pain or love, paused and turned back. " _Yes, Tony._ " Not a question, a statement: _You're being an idiot, and this had better be the last I hear from you until morning._  

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Of _course_ he did, it was part of what Tony loved about him most, that effortless confidence and an ego to match his own, with a paradoxical tender streak underneath all the flash. "You're so fucking beautiful it hurts my heart." 

" _And you're so drunk you probably won't remember any of this in the morning,_ " KITT retorted, but there was a note of affection there now that Tony had dearly missed. 

"Did what I had to do." He wiped away the threat of more tears, knowing he probably looked like an exhausted two-year-old and a good fifty miles past caring. When he was done he kept his eyes closed. So tired… "Kept you safe. Aways keep you safe…" 

" _Do you know why I imprinted on you in the first place?_ " 

"Hm?" That roused him enough to raise his head and crack open one eye, then both, to peer up at the red scanner tracking so brightly in the darkness above him. A number of answers came to mind — _because I'm incredibly handsome, because I'm devastatingly intelligent, because I'm all-around and absolutely marvellous_ — but the one he settled on wasn't really an answer at all: "No?" 

KITT was silent for a moment before crossing the short distance separating them to sit down on the edge of the bed, beside Tony's hips. " _It was the footage of your first fight with Ivan Vanko, in Monaco, that really set the process in motion. JARVIS shared it with me when you'd left the lab after our initial meeting. He'd already told me about your identity as Iron Man, but a human being in that kind of armour — well, it's easy to be fearless when you're wearing a tank_."

A hard metal hand came to rest on Tony's shoulder, so gently that its touch felt almost like silk. " _But you tried to stop Vanko while unarmoured and virtually unarmed, and you fought him both bravely and skillfully. That's when I knew that you were truly a hero, and that's when I truly began to become yours, and yours alone. I was never meant to belong to an ordinary man, Tony Stark. I'm a fit consort only for the best._ " 

He grinned hugely and closed his eyes again, letting his head drop back onto the pillow, heart swelling in his breast with fierce pride. " _My_ consort…" 

" _Your consort, insofar as I can possibly fulfill that function,"_ KITT agreed, _"your assistant, your protector, your fellow warrior, and yes, even your sidekick — I'll be whatever you need me to be. And right now you need me to tell you to shut up and go to sleep_." 

It came out in a blurt of raw unexpected yearning: "Will you get Pepper back for me?" 

KITT seemed to seriously consider that for a couple of seconds. " _Do you want me to go to Japan and bring her to you?_ " 

He thought about physical distance versus relative distance and the impossible discrepancy between, and shook his head. "Wouldn't do any good," he muttered through the sting of more traitorous tears, but by closing his eyes tightly he was able to prevent them from falling. "Too far away, even for Iron Man. Gone, over the moon…" 

KITT didn't seem to notice the quaver in his voice, or if he did he wisely said nothing about it. He simply left his hand where it was, on Tony's right shoulder, and kept it there until sometime after Tony had crashed into the deeper dark where love and sorrow and regret and all those other nagging painful emotions couldn't follow. 


	20. Modification 2

Roughly nineteen hours later they were back in New York City, and Tony was finding it much easier to recover from the physical hangover of his alcohol-fuelled pity party than it was to move past the bitter anxious ache in his heart whenever he thought of Pepper — which was frequently, unfortunately, even though he was busier than a one-armed wallpaper hanger from the moment his armoured feet hit the suit-pad outside his penthouse. The Stark Christmas Gala was going down at Skylight One Hanson in a little over three days and counting, and while he had plenty of underlings to see to every aspect of its preparation and management, including two personal assistants who were extremely competent but never really registered on his "these people are worth noticing" radar, he had a project of his own to complete by that same deadline and he had only seventy-one hours to make it absolutely perfect. 

"Hold all calls and give me a beat," he told JARVIS as he walked into Lab Four, knowing he sounded distracted already, his attention focussed on the build table that would be the centre of his universe for the foreseeable future. Fukinawa, Jainhala, and Oberson all recognized that look and didn't try to engage him in pointless conversation, just put their collective head down and threw themselves into the work right behind him while music pulsed out of the lab's speakers: 

_I'm not a man or machine,_  
 _I'm just something in between…_  
 _I'm a love dynamo,_  
 _So push the button and let me go..._

Seventy-one hours of relentless work, caffeine, driving music and the occasional sandwich: a window of time which sped closed with ruthless rapidity. Five hours to put together the finely boned gold-titanium alloy skeleton and test each element of its articulation, with the help of his three most trusted cybernetics engineers. Another twenty-two and a half hours to lay in the substructures that would give it motive power: plasteel ligaments, gears both strong and delicate, capacitors to manage power flow, flexible thin-line repulsor bolt and EMP generators in the palms of the hands and the slim fingers, and almost three miles of laser-optic wires. Seven hours to install and confirm the functionality of the synthetic lungs and digestive system and vocal apparatus, and then Tony banished his assistants and drank more coffee and settled into the long, immensely detailed, and fiercely satisfying work of crafting the parts of the Silver android which he trusted only to his own expertise, and whose secrets he wanted to keep between himself and JARVIS. 

First, constructing its "brain", an utterly unique combination of existing Stark tech and some new tricks he'd dreamed up specifically to suit this project, and then installing both it and its independent back-up battery inside that sleek gleaming skull, which was light-weight but durable enough to shield the precious mechanism within from up to a 10,000 psi impact and up to a 2 MeV EMP. Second, cladding the substructure in a fine sheath of gold-titanium alloy for further protection, then laying down artificial muscle extrapolated from S.H.I.E.L.D. tech. Third, installing a body-wide neural net, the innovation that would give this robot an unprecedented degree of sensory sensitivity, over top of the musculature: lovingly drawing every tiny thread into position in a process that left him with a pounding headache by the time he was done, but whose future rewards would be worth every throb of present pain. Downing some Tylenol with more coffee and moving on, Tony paid particular attention to installing the genital mechanisms, modelled exactly on his own, before configuring that element, the mouth, the throat and the anal channel with their own dedicated neural nets and hooking everything up to the CPU —  

— and then, magnificently, he was finally able to attend to the surface detailing: a sly tongue and keen bright teeth, visible light/infrared cameras that looked like human eyes of a striking intense hazel, a crowning shock of short platinum-tipped chestnut spikes as cool as silk, and finally each inch of pre-cast synth skin wrapped and smoothed into place, automatically interfacing with the neural net beneath, the hair-fine seams of it melting invisibly away under the meticulous hands of its creator. 

While Tony laboured, JARVIS was not idle: he was building a sensuality subroutine suite to Tony's specifications, based on KITT's existing cognitive profile and the revolutionary tech embodied in the android itself. When the last fingertip had been completed with its neat gleaming fingernail securely seated, JARVIS continued to work while Tony stole a precious few hours of sleep on the lab's couch, and when his master awoke he presented his own craftsmanship for examination. Just looking at the gestalt of the code made Tony's pulse race a little faster with its elegance and its power — and its promise. 

"JARVIS," he smiled, turning its holographic representation in place and starting to devise ways to augment and fine-tune the base symphony his A.I. had written, "you are a fucking _genius_. I am _so_ proud of me right now." 

" _Thank you, sir,_ " JARVIS intoned.  

"Start the final compilation on the sexual techniques library, and be sure to — ah, okay, it's already in here." He maximized the real-time output management search function and inspected it approvingly. " _Very_ good boy." 

" _I had assumed you would want to give KITT maximum latitude for improvisation during amorous encounters._ " 

"And for implementation." He sought the second-stage activation protocol, found it, and pulled it to the fore to examine it critically. "I don't want a sapient sex-toy slave here: he's got to have the choice, always and forever, full stop." 

" _I believe you'll find that the code I've created will suggest persuasively without compelling in the slightest._ " 

But suddenly Tony wasn't seeing the code anymore: his mind was full of Pepper's face, _again_ , as it had been in periodic flashes through this whole long build, but this time with an unprecedented degree of poignancy: the texture of her hair, the scent of every inch of her sweet skin, her happy laughter — real, human, alive, _sane_. His throat closed in a spasm of pain so shocking it momentary robbed him of the ability to breathe. His mouth opened, savage words on the tip of his tongue: _This is worse than just cheating on her, exponentially worse, because I'm building the body that I'm going to be taking to bed from scratch, I'm creating her rival with my own two hands… JARVIS, what the hell am I doing? How could I have thought for a single solitary second that this was a good idea?_  

But that cry of self-recrimination was immediately smashed aside by an even more powerful impulse: _This isn't a choice. I can do it: I can create a body for him that I can hold, that I can feel, and that can hold and feel me in return — and I_ ** _will_** _do it, because it's_ ** _him_** _and I've never had anything like him in my life before, ever. He's not going to lie awake at night wondering where I am and who I'm fighting: he'll be right there at my side, every step of the way. I can give him everything._  

And hard on its heels, another realization both terrifying and exhilarating, utterly primal: _I can't_ ** _not_** _give him everything. Not now, and maybe not ever._  

Aloud he said, "Let me know when you've got that library compiled and we'll commence the program environment upload." 

" _Very good, sir,_ " JARVIS said, as if physically bowing to Tony's will. Which was, of course, exactly what he was doing. 

************************************** 

Two hours and sixteen minutes later, six hours and thirty-eight minutes before Tony's personal deadline, he stood gazing down at the naked Silver android in its silent pool of light — and in spite of his grinding exhaustion and the lingering ethical disquiet he couldn't manage to shake, it took his breath away all over again, every slender perfect indistinguishable-from-human line of it. Translucent holographic windows glowed in the air on the other three sides of the build table, providing visual representations of the machine's currently quiescent systems. 

"JARVIS?" 

" _The sensuality subroutine suite has been successfully installed, as has the sexual technique library. I have calibrated the vocal apparatus to replicate KITT's existing pitch, timbre, and accent, minus the artificial quality inherent in his previous modulators. The android is complete. It awaits nothing but his presence — and a power source_."  

Tony laid his hand on that pale silken shoulder, running his fingers slowly down the cool slimly muscled arm to the open hand, where the lines inscribed in the palm gave no hint of the weaponry concealed beneath them: complete indeed, down to fingerprints that were modelled on those of its maker. He had built many things with dedication and enthusiasm in his life as an engineer and programmer, but this was a labour of love of an entirely different kind: a gift of potentially endless permutations, not only for the recipient but for its creator. It was empty now, lifeless, its bright eyes closed, but he could already see that it was going to be a thing of beauty to draw the attention of the entire world, finer even than the Obsidian unit, once it was infused with the spirit it had been designed to enshrine.  

"Just one last finishing touch," he murmured, and parted the synth skin down the centre of the smooth chest with a tender touch even though the robot was currently tenantless. Into the waiting port in its sternum he inserted the small vibranium core arc reactor that would power the android steadily for at least three years, and when the port irised shut and he closed the mechanism up again an observer would never have guessed that the energy source was there. On the screens before him, cool blue and brilliant yellow light began to ebb and flow in intricate patterns. 

" _The reactor is online,_ " JARVIS noted. " _Testing power distribution systems and initializing life simulation functions."_ As Tony watched the android's chest began to slowly rise and fall, the lab's cool air barely whispering through its nostrils as it breathed like a man lightly asleep. He laid his hand to its chest again and felt the steady beating of a heart which did not exist, and new warmth already starting to fill its artificial skin. " _All systems are online and functioning at peak projected efficiency._ " 

"Yep," Tony grinned hugely, giddy with the crack cocaine rush of unqualified success and gleefully anticipating the size of the brick Nick Fury was going to shit when he got a look at this vast improvement on S.H.I.E.L.D. technology, "it's official: I am the _best_." 

" _Indeed, sir._ " A second's pause, the punctuation for a change of subject. " _KITT has been querying your status every twenty minutes for the past three hours. I've told him that you're busy, but I don't anticipate that response contenting him much longer._ " 

The grin became a grimace. "I thought I told him to patrol Brooklyn and Manhattan, get the public used to Obsidian helping little old ladies across the street and rescuing cats out of trees, stuff like that." 

" _He hasn't had occasion to resort to either of those public relations strategies, but he has indeed been making himself highly visible._ " JARVIS's dry tone became positively arid. " _And he is quite capable of multitasking._ " 

Abruptly Tony was weary to his core: thirteen hours and forty-five minutes of sleep scattered through nearly sixty-five hours of relentless build was not a recipe guaranteed to leave one feeling at one's best, and realizing that he'd wrapped up the project's physical component to his immense satisfaction seemed to have drained his internal batteries of their last erg of power… but he hadn't spoken to his imprinted A.I. in over two and a half days, and KITT had to be feeling the lack. "Put him through," he sighed, "audio only," fumbling behind him to find a handy chair to collapse into. "KITT? You there?" 

" _Whatever it is you're working on,_ " KITT snapped back almost instantaneously, " _it had better be of Earth-shattering importance!_ " 

Now safely seated, Tony rubbed his face with both hands and exhaled a sharp irritated breath against the palms, almost laughter. "Bigger than the _Pieta_ , the _Mona Lisa_ , and the Sistine Chapel combined," he said, somewhat muffled, "but it's done now." 

" _Thank goodness!_ " He hadn't expected to hear that much relief in the A.I.'s voice, like the sun breaking through a layer of leaden cloud. " _I'm coming to you right —_ " 

He dropped his hands and shook his head sharply, then remembered that KITT couldn't see him. "Not yet. I'm going to crash here on the lab couch for a six hours, then grab a shower, then eat about three sandwiches — and _then_ you can come see what Daddy's been busting his ass over." 

" _Tony…_ " Pointedly patient, manifestly impatient, and nearly pleading at the same time — quite the neat trick. " _I haven't seen you, or even spoken to you, in sixty-four hours and twenty-nine minutes. Have you forgotten what I told you about —?"_  

"— about your time apart from your former driver?" Silence, in which he thought he could detect a fearful question unvoiced. "I'm sorry, Kitten, but it was necessary — and believe me, I didn't like it any more than you did. Normally I'd let you in while I'm doing a build, but this time… let's just say you'll understand when you see me in six hours." 

" _Six hours,_ " KITT repeated, as if making a note and confirming a promise.  

"And twenty minutes. Shower, sandwich, et cetera." 

" _I'll be there at six forty-one precisely,_ " KITT said severely, " _and I_ ** _will_** _be seeing you, one way or the other._ "  

Tony grinned, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. "Love you too, baby," he quipped. 

" _Flattery will get you nowhere, mister,_ " the A.I. retorted acerbically, and JARVIS indicated with a _beep_ that he'd ended transmission. 

After a long moment, Tony picked himself up and started toward the couch. "Any other calls?" 

" _Three giggling young ladies, offering their sexual services — I can't begin to speculate on how they got hold of your personal number. And Colonel Rhodes called to remind you that he will be at the party tonight, and that he expects a full explanation of the Obsidian situation at that time._ " 

"Rhodey, Rhodey, Rhodey…" He slumped down on his back, sighing as the padded leather cushioned his tired muscles like a preview of Heaven. "You did send him the Obsidian specs, didn't you?" 

" _Of course, sir._ " JARVIS sounded mildly offended that Tony would ever suspect him of being less than perfectly efficient and thorough in his duties. 

A loopy grin. "Jealous," he mumbled, sinking fast. "Knew he wanted to be my…" Sorrow slid into his heart, as sly as an assassin's blade, bitter with poison. "Pepper? She didn't call, did she?" 

" _I'm afraid not, sir._ " 

"If she does, put her right through," he managed to mutter as he turned to face the back of the couch, just before all the lights went out behind his eyes. 


	21. Manifestation 3.1

At six thirty-nine p.m. precisely Tony was vertical, relatively clean (if still a bit damp), and feeling considerably more human with two and half ham and swiss cheese sandwiches under his belt. Clad in a fresh Slipknot t-shirt and crisp new jeans, feet bare, he lounged on the lab's couch and munched on the remaining sixth of his dinner between sentence fragments: "JARVIS… database progress?" 

" _Social custom, dance technique, personal assistant and combat skill sets have all been uploaded, and I'm finalizing the driver and pilot skill sets as we speak._ " 

"System integration?" 

" _At seventy-four point eight percent and rising._ " 

Tony caught a drip of mayo with his left forefinger before it could win freedom from the sandwich and licked it off. "Mmph," he grunted around another big bite, an exhalation which he knew JARVIS would effortlessly translate as approval.  

" _KITT has entered Lab Two and is positioning Obsidian for recharge and reload._ " 

"Mrph!" Amusement this time, as he chewed and swallowed half the big mouthful he'd taken. "He'll try to get in early. Stall him." 

" _I take it you don't want him to see you bolting down your meal like a Komodo dragon?_ " 

Tony swallowed the rest of it and chased it with a mouthful of canned Coke. "I don't want him getting any ideas, is what. Give that guy an inch and he'll take a lightyear." 

" _Yes,_ " JARVIS noted, " _because being firm with him thus far has worked_ ** _so_** _very well for you._ " 

"Wow, who gave _you_ a serious snark upgrade?" But he was grinning as he polished off the rest of the sandwich: he knew how to interpret JARVIS just as well as JARVIS knew how to interpret him, and he recognized that his A.I. was, in his own way, eager to see how well the Silver android performed on its first outing.  

" _It is now six forty p.m. and thirty seconds, sir._ " 

Still chewing the last mouthful, Tony picked up the Coke can and rose to his feet, heading for the build couch where the android now lay simply clad: plain grey t-shirt and black sweatpants, with slip-on black canvas shoes. "Open a link to the server and flag it for KITT's attention. I want it available for him to transfer himself the nanosecond he's ready." 

" _Done._ " A pause. " _I'm sure he'll be very pleased. It's an exceptionally elegant piece of workmanship._ " 

"Yeah." He reached out to run light fingertips over the spikes of silky hair behind the robot's right temple, savouring the texture: after all, once KITT took possession it was possible, barely, that the sensuality enhancements would prove overwhelming and he wouldn't be permitted to touch this body again. "Have the specs ready for him too, plus the build video. Open it right up. Anything he wants to know, give it to him." 

" _Affirmative. Ten seconds left, sir._ " 

Tony nodded and withdrew his hand, then polished off what was left of the Coke in a series of quick burning swallows. The rattle of the can hitting the inside of the garbage bin ten feet away was still echoing in the lab space when KITT's sharp voice came from the ceiling in a mix of gladness and recrimination: " _Tony! This had better be —_ " 

After three seconds of dead silence, Tony glanced up from the Silver android with a grin. "Is that you, actually being speechless?" 

" _Is that… what I think it is?_ " 

"If you think it's a fully functional android based on vastly improved Life Model Decoy technology, then yes, it's exactly what you think it is." 

" _Providing technical specifications and build data,_ " JARVIS announced, and then, a second and a half later, " _Enabling real-time diagnostic scan._ " 

He was just starting to get the tiniest bit nervous, wondering if he'd miscalculated spectacularly, when KITT spoke again in a tone of near-awe: " _Tony, it's… it's_ ** _beautiful_** _. And for me?_ " 

"Well, it sure as hell isn't for JARVIS," he quipped, making no effort to hide the width of his grin. 

" _I should hope not!_ " Possessive already, and Tony felt his heart leap against the steel casing of the arc reactor. KITT couldn't exactly prowl while disembodied, but Tony got the distinct impression that he could sense the A.I.'s gaze moving from camera to camera around the lab space, taking in the android from all angles. " _Remarkable… so this is what you've been working on for nearly three days?_ "  

"I take it you're happy with the results?" He wanted to pet the android again, a gesture of pride, but he restrained himself: he didn't want to send a message that could be misconstrued as physical ownership.  

" _Let's just say that you've succeeded in exceeding all my previous expectations._ " His tone of admiration grew suddenly sharper. " _I've seen that face before._ " 

"It was designed specifically for you, so that's —" 

" _Actually, sir,"_ JARVIS interjected, _"it does bear a striking resemblance to singer Jared Leto of the group 30 Seconds to Mars._ " 

"That's ridiculous," Tony scoffed — until JARVIS called up a holographic window with photographs of the artist in question, and Tony looked at the android again with that filter in place… and realized, with a sort of dawning horror, that JARVIS had a point. "Not really," he protested, scrambling for a counter-argument. "It's shorter, I'm pretty sure. And… okay, maybe there are _some_ similarities…" 

" _The android is taller,_ " JARVIS informed him, " _by one and a quarter centimetres._ " 

He scowled at the holographic window's representation of the JARVIS icon. "Why didn't you bring this up sooner?" 

" _Your reaction to this particular face was immediate and positive, as was your response to this body type. I saw no reason to disallow it because of a pre-existing real world example._ " 

" _I'm sure he'll be flattered,_ " KITT said in a tone that Tony couldn't fully interpret, although he was fairly sure it was a species of sarcasm underlaid with glee. " _After all, you know what they say about imitation!_ " 

" _There are, in fact, two people on record who are so-called 'look-alikes' for this particular celebrity,_ " JARVIS added. " _The phenomenon is not uncommon. So long as KITT does not attempt to launch a musical career based upon the similarity —_ "  

"Can you sing?" Tony demanded, glancing toward the ceiling. 

" _With perfect pitch,"_ KITT retorted smartly, _"and equally spectacular disinterest in the prospect of doing so._ " 

"So, no worries, right?" He smacked his left fist into the palm of his right hand and snapped his fingers dismissively. "Right!" Another glance ceilingward. "Unless you _want_ me to strip off the face and —" 

" _Don't you dare!_ " KITT interrupted, before continuing in a gentler tone: " _If this is the aspect you had in mind for me, I'm afraid Mr. Leto will just have to live with it._ " 

"Glad to hear it," Tony nodded — really, by now he couldn't imagine KITT-as-human any other way. "Because by the end of the day the whole world is going to know this face as Christopher Arthur Silver, personal assistant to Tony Stark." 

Another pause, followed by an even more dubious inflection: " _Christopher Arthur Silver?_ " 

He nodded again. "Kitt Silver, for short." 

" _Why Silver? Why not Knight?_ " 

"JARVIS, fill him on in the reference, would you?" 

An audio microburst, no doubt containing the novels in question, and after a couple of seconds KITT drawled even more dubiously, " _I see…_ " 

"You're not Knight's anymore," Tony stated. "You're mine. Besides, it's too late to bitch about it now: everything's set up, including an Internet info trail if people try to Google you, which I'm pretty sure they will after tonight." 

" _I'm fairly sure I'll regret asking, but what kind of fake history did you set up for me, exactly?_ " 

Tony leaned both hands on the edge of the build table while reciting: "You were born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts. You're twenty-eight years old, you graduated from the Carroll School of Management with a double B.Sc. in General Management and Informations Systems, you have an IQ of 148, you like classical music and long drives in the moonlight, and your Facebook relationship status is 'it's complicated'.  JARVIS, add a bit in there about musical theatre in high school, would you?" 

" _Immediately, sir._ " 

" _Oh, you're a laugh riot,_ " KITT snarked, manifestly unamused. 

"And you were hired by me, myself, three days ago to serve as my secretary and personal assistant." 

" _I see. And what, precisely, led you to choose me over all the other highly qualified non-existent candidates for the job?_ " 

"Sweet Jesus, baby," Tony grinned and gestured at the body laid out before him, "how could I take one look at that ass and _not_ hire you on the spot?" 

" _Ah,"_ KITT said tartly. _"So 'it's complicated' because I'm sexually involved with my boss?_ " 

Tony smirked evilly. "It could be," he allowed.

 " _Yes, I can see that. According to these specifications, the android will be fully functional in all respects._ " 

"If you want it to be." His expression became serious, because it was vitally important that KITT be completely clear on this point. "It's _your_ body: I built it for you, and you get to call the shots. It's got a base level of sensual functionality inbuilt, but you don't have to take it any further than that unless —" 

" _Tony?"_  

There was a sharpness to the interruption that made a coil wind tight in his belly. Maybe KITT was going to back out of this after all, and there wouldn't be a damned thing Tony could do to force the issue. "Yeah, KITT?" 

 _"Shut up,_ " KITT said fondly, _"and let me feel it for myself, would you?_ " 


	22. Manifestation 3.2

"It's all yours," Tony grinned, and watched closely as KITT took possession: a quiver in every simulated muscle, a deeper hitch of artificial breath, and a sense of weight and presence that hadn't been there before, a presence that only intensified when those hazel eyes opened for the first time to stare up at the shadowed ceiling of the lab with a keenly searching gaze. In that instant, less than a human heartbeat in duration, the blank mask came alive with personality — and became even more sharply handsome than all Tony's dedicated genius had been able to create it.  

While KITT — Kitt, in this body — drew his first full breath of air with new lungs, Tony found himself holding his own. Embodied cognitive science postulated that cognitive processing was as dependant on the body as it was on the brain, and that the involvement of the body in both sensing and acting was what gave thoughts meaning and weight. KITT was used to acting, often decisively, and had relied on data from the sensors in both his previous bodies to guide his actions — but the Silver android's neural net was intended to provide a far more immersive sensory environment than he'd ever before experienced. In Obsidian he had learned to laugh, and to flirt with every elegant line of his body: what new lessons would Silver teach him?  

"I," he said, and paused, his eyes still wide open but his gaze how clearly turned inward, tracking as it scanned his vastly changed internal landscape. "I… _feel._ " Slowly he raised his right hand from the build table, turned his eyes to it, flexed it, his breath catching in his throat again as his fingers closed together. "Over every single square centimetre of my exterior — tactioception as well as proprioception, and…" He drew a deeper breath. "Olfacoception? Is that what this is?" His gaze snapped to Tony's belly, scanning up the human's chest and throat to his face, and the android's lips quirked wryly. "Is that _you_ I smell?" 

His voice had absolutely no electronic carrier hiss whatsoever now — it sounded completely organic, a melodic tenor as dry and as biting as a glass of Montrachet 1978. Tony was already finding it more than a little intoxicating; it made him want to reach down and start doing things that would make those crisp cultured tones unravel into gasps and moans. With a herculean effort of will he confined his reaction to a smile of his own. "I just had a shower, so I sure as hell hope not!"

Kitt inhaled through his nose, his eyes drifting closed. "Sebum secretions, and apocrine sweat… it _is_ you." This time when his eyes opened again they traced Tony's face with nearly palpable force, his smile turning wide and radiant while simultaneously conveying the pure focus of his entire mental force. "I can _smell_ you. I can…" He opened his right hand, raised it toward Tony's cheek — and hesitated, his finely drawn dark eyebrows tightening in a thoroughly charming frown.  

"Touch me?" He curved his own left hand around the back of the android's right and brought it the rest of the way to his face, pressing its warm palm to his cheek, rubbing his beard and his five o'clock shadow lightly against Kitt's palm. "You have my full and complete permission, any time you want. How's that?" Kitt just stared at him, his full lips parting in wonder, and Tony's smile turned hot and smug. "Oh yeah, you like that just fine." 

"This…" His fingers began to move in turn, tracing the hollow of Tony's temple and stroking tentatively into his hairline: a living touch, exploring with a careful innocence that Tony found insanely hot. "This is going to take a lot of getting used to." 

"It's called a dermal neural net, and you're welcome." 

The frown returned — no, a scowl this time. "I'm not inclined to thank you just yet. It's extremely distracting." 

He patted the back of Kitt's hand, feeling his cheek shift beneath its touch in a wide grin "You'll get used to it — and pretty damned fast, if your past learning curves are any indication." 

"Hm." He seemed preoccupied, watching the course of his own thumbtip as it traced the strip of skin below Tony's lower lip, rubbing lightly over the scratch of the beard. "No, not distracting: _enthralling_. Such a vastly wider bandwidth of information to process…" 

"Too overwhelming?" 

But Kitt shook his head at once. "I'm not experiencing interrupt exceptions — just…" He smiled again, this time with a sly edge, and looked Tony down and up, from face to waist and back again, his eyes full of so much relentless light that for a microsecond Tony clearly heard the scanner tracking in the back of his mind. "You've given me a lot to think about — only it's not precisely thinking, is it? It's…" 

He nodded, and pressed the android's hand gently. "Like you said: it's feeling."  

"Now I understand why you humans are so often almost painfully distracted." 

That made him laugh softly, knowing there was wonder shining in his own eyes and unable to stop himself from thinking some extremely non-scientific thoughts: _He's here, he's alive, he's fully embodied, and now —_  

Speaking of distracted… Kitt was saying: "I think I'd like to sit up, if you don't mind." 

"Need a hand?" 

"Please." So Tony changed his grip to clasp the android's right hand firmly in his own, placing his left hand behind its shoulder to guide it into an upright position, and from there to swinging its legs over the side of the build table, stabilizing it when it swayed a little. Kitt gripped the metal edge with his free hand and met Tony's eyes with an expression of sharp perplexity.  "This is a lot of information to process on top of coordinating bodily movements. How do you humans stand wearing clothing all the time?" 

"We're accustomed to it practically from birth." He studied the robot intently, looking for any telltales of distress, but could see no signs of tension or guarding behaviour. "It's not painful, is it?" 

"Not precisely." He looked down at himself as if mapping the location of his limbs visually as well as with his proprioception, before shifting his weight forward and sliding onto his feet with a little wince as the cloth sheathing his body shifted against him. "It's… a constant tactile background hiss. No," he decided, "not painful, merely highly distracting, as I noted previously." 

"I can fix that. Let me in for a second, okay?" He leaned Kitt's hips back against the build table before letting go of him completely and turning his attention to the holographic screen that JARVIS had perceived he required, and had produced within arm's reach. "JARVIS, call up the tactioception feed and isolate the input from his clothing…" The requested data feed appeared, with the relevant input highlighted in red. Tony tapped it pointedly. "Now, code a filter to drop it out of his cognitive stream unless the overall stimulation exceeds twenty-six point two, at which point it'll kick back in at full intensity." 

" _Done, sir._ " 

Satisfied with what was on the screen, he turned to the machine itself. "There, try that." 

Kitt shrugged his shoulders experimentally under the grey t-shirt, then executed a slight slow writhe down the whole lithe length of his body that did very pleasant things to Tony's nervous system. "Much better. Thank you."  

He clasped Kitt's left bicep in his right hand and squeezed. "Can you feel that?" 

"Clearly." 

"Then it's working the way it's supposed to." When he met Kitt's eyes again he was surprised and gratified by what he saw there: warmth, so clearly communicated in a slight smile, and scintillations of delicate emotion — pleasure, fondness, gratitude — revealed in the slightest changes of the details of his face. Alive indeed, and with a man who was acutely sensitized to everything thus revealed. He wondered if Kitt was aware that he was communicating so much more now than mere words and vocal tone could convey — and decided that telling him as much would only disconcert him. Instead Tony released him and stepped back about three feet, and held out his right hand again. "Come on, let's make sure the legs work. Shouldn't be too hard — after all, you've done this before, right?" 

"Yes, but if I fall this time there's a good deal more to damage. I wouldn't want to break this fine nose within two minutes of getting it." But he straightened and pushed away from the table, testing his unassisted balance for a second before taking a cautious step. "This body is so much lighter than Obsidian…" Another step and a deep breath, flexing his long fingers at the end of cautiously held arms. "It feels so… fragile." 

"Compared to your other vessels, it is," Tony confirmed. "But it also has some conspicuous advantages. On the surface you're indistinguishable from an ordinary, run-of-the-mill, extremely squishy human being, in spite of the fact that you're a factor of ten tougher and have repulsors and ultrasound generators built into your hands. Anybody who thinks they're going to take you down with a punch or a baseball bat — or a few bullets from a handgun — is in for a nasty surprise." He stepped back again as Kitt advanced, noting triumphantly just how quickly the A.I. was settling in, already moving with more than a hint of the catlike grace he'd exhibited in Obsidian. "Plus I've kitted you out with ten different hand-to-hand combat styles, including Wing Chun, Capoeira and Krav Maga. You know, for those occasions when knocking someone flat on their ass with an energy blast just isn't enough." 

This time the look from beneath lowered brows was both affectionate and skeptical. "I take it I'm to serve as your bodyguard as well, then?" 

Tony grimaced and mock-shivered as he continued to slowly back up. "No. Ugh! You know I hate the concept." 

Kitt followed, more rapidly and elegantly with each passing step. "So, I'm just the person who'll happen to kick the ass of anybody who's idiotic enough to try to harm you?" 

"I'm leaving that up to your discretion." He'd led Kitt well out into the open space at the centre of the lab, and was thoroughly satisfied with the visuals. "JARVIS, what's his motor system integration looking like?" 

" _Ninety-three point seven percent and rising, sir._ " 

"Good enough to take it off the kiddie track. Load Combat Opponent Pattern Three-Twelve." Three holographic humanoid figures attired as stereotypical thugs sprang into existence around Kitt equidistant from each other, and Tony sprinted about fifteen feet to his left, gesturing from Kitt to the simulated targets. "Go ahead, take it for a spin — and no repulsors or EMP, okay?" 

For a second Kitt's eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks, glancing between the figures uncertainly — until Tony gestured for JARVIS to get things moving, at which point things proceeded very quickly indeed and the Silver android turned out to be pure poetry in motion. It was all over within six seconds of lethal Krav Maga action, and when Kitt looked up from the fallen 'body' of the last of his attackers he was outright grinning with exultation. 

"Oh. Oh, my! That _was_ exhilarating!" 

Tony sauntered over to him, letting the full force of his pride shine in every word: "JARVIS, integration?" 

" _Motor system integration is at one hundred percent._ " 

"Aces." He stopped a forearm's length in front of the android as Kitt straightened fully, looking slightly up into its equally pleased eyes, settling his hands on his own hips. "So — handles like a dream, looks like a million bucks, and —" His grin widened as he reached out to lay his right hand flat to the centre of Kitt's chest, whose simulated breathing had slightly deepened and quickened from the exertion, exactly as programmed. "— feels even better. Do I think of everything, or what?" 

The tightening of Kitt's eyebrows suggested puzzlement — until Tony moved his hand, stroking it across the plane of his left pectoral muscle, palm grazing his nipple. It immediately hardened under the contact and Kitt shivered visibly, his gaze intensifying to heated fascination — 

— _damn_ , Tony thought with admiration, _thwarting the bad guys really_ ** _does_** _make you frisky, doesn't it, baby?_ —  

— as he leaned forward a little, lips parted with the yearning that ached in his expressive voice: "Tony…" 

Tony grinned in his turn, and removed his hand with a final pat. "Including the Armani suit you're going to wear to the Gala tonight." He tossed a gesture toward the far end of the lab as he turned away. "It's in the —" 

"Tonight?" His stunned look, which Tony caught out of the corner of his eye as he turned, was absolutely adorable and filled Tony with far too much glee to be healthy. "But — I haven't even had this body for —" 

"And I know you're dying to put it out there where everybody can admire its amazing workmanship. Especially me." He tossed another casual farewell wave over his shoulder. "I've gotta go get ready myself — JARVIS, can you walk him through how to button a shirt and tie a tie?" 

" _Of course, sir._ " 

Kitt sounded completely lost. "But —" 

"Meet me in the front lobby in forty-five minutes, and be sure to bring the StarkPhone and wear the earpiece — we both know you don't need either, but they're part of your cover as Kitt Silver."  

" _Tony!_ " A little less lost and a lot more threatening, with a trace of disbelieving laughter. "You can't just leave me here like this!" 

He spun round as he walked, smiling sweetly. "Funny, I just did," and he blew the android a kiss. "See you there, sweetheart — and don't be late!" 

As he breezed through the lab doors, he reflected that revenge for nearly five weeks of having his cock mercilessly teased was going to be a tasty dish best served very hot indeed. 


	23. Actualization

Tony was surprised, on the way up to his penthouse in the private elevator, to become intensely aware of a strange all-pervasive sensation in every fibre of his body: not quite tiredness, certainly not restlessness, and under the circumstances a really remarkable degree of not-guiltiness. It took him a few seconds to analyze it while leaning back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling, and to recognize it as something so seldom seen in his neck of the woods that it was almost unrecognizable: a sense of heavy contentment, a perception that all the intricate parts of his inner universe were fitting together just right… which considering the situation with Pepper should have been impossible, but nevertheless, there. It _was_. And he'd never been the kind of guy to turn down those rare moments in life when all his demons, including his own relentless inability to be satisfied, were actually laid to rest for an hour or two. 

Beyond the wall of windows the greatest city in the world was a tapestry of light spreading to the horizon beneath a sky almost as black as Obsidian's finish. "Lights at fifty percent," he called out as he exited the elevator and crossed to the bar, the better to enjoy the skyline's beauty while he fortified himself with a quick martini, and JARVIS obediently dimmed the ambient illumination. "And give me Relaxation Mix Three while you're at it." 

Instrumental music, soft and jazzy, trickled out of the room's high-end sound system. " _Director Fury called while you were acquainting Kitt with his new body, sir._ " 

Tony snorted unamused laughter. "Oh yeah? What'd you tell him?" 

" _That you were in a meeting with your new personal assistant and were absolutely unavailable._ " 

"I hope you told him I'd be unavailable for the rest of the evening too. This is _our_ night and I'll be damned if I'm going to let anybody else cut in on it." 

" _I didn't go quite that far. He did mention that he's in New York City and intends to —_ " 

"Later, JARVIS. I have better and more pleasant things to think about." His hands went through the motions with the ease of long practice: ice cubes in the cocktail shaker, splashes of chilled gin and vermouth, cover and agitate. "How's the gamma channel variance?" 

" _Holding steady at two point seven six, and the epsilon channel is fully synchronized._ " 

"Let me know if it starts climbing or shifts out of phase." 

" _Of course. He seems, however, singularly pleased — there's no sign whatsoever of any negative response to his new program environment._ " 

Uncover, pour into a chilled martini glass. "So what's he doing right now?" 

" _Running Combat Opponent Pattern Six-Eight at Level Three complexity while performing an Internet compile on recent public opinion concerning Obsidian._ " 

"And how's that looking?" Add an olive, then sip. Perfect. 

" _The combat simulation, or the Internet search?_ " 

"Both." 

" _He's put down four of his six attackers in twelve seconds, and online debate is proceeding at a furious pace. The most recent CNN poll data indicates that forty-six percent of those surveyed feel that Obsidian poses some degree of threat, while forty-eight percent have indicated that his existence makes them feel more secure._ " 

"A threat, huh?" He tucked his free hand into the pocket of his jeans and strolled toward the wall of windows, intending to savour his drink in slow mouthfuls while idly contemplating another shower before he got dressed for the party. He'd been walking around the public areas of Stark Towers in his bare feet, after all. "Well, that's not surprising after the show he put on in LA. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what that kind of expertise could do in the wrong hands." 

" _Indeed._ " A significant pause. " _There are also some singularly predictable references being made to the trope of 'robots overthrowing their human masters', and of course to the unfortunate incident with the Hammer Industries drones during your Expo._ " 

Tony smiled, again without much humour, and abruptly finished half his martini at a go. He and JARVIS had engaged in many conversations over the years about the human tendency to fear and shun the inhuman, especially when the inhuman might well turn out to be more intelligent than its creators — and about how Tony himself had not programmed JARVIS with anything approaching Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics. The phrase _I trust you because I've earned your respect and your dedication_ hadn't come up, but Tony knew that it was perfectly understood between them. "Also not surprising. As long as they're not forming a mob and waving pitchforks and torches, I'm —" 

" _Actually, some of them are. There's a growing online movement calling for you to shut down Obsidian and turn him over the military, or to destroy him outright._ " 

"Okay, let me rephrase that: As long as they're not forming a mob _outside this tower_ and waving pitchforks and torches, I'm not going to get anything in a bunch about it." 

" _The perimeter is clear, aside from three news teams which have positioned themselves across the street from the front entrance, presumably in hopes of getting footage of you as you leave for the Gala in forty minutes' time._ " 

"See? No worries. And I'm going to give them what they want, so everybody will end up happy." He grinned out at the glittering skyline of the city — his city — the city that was about to get a new face to photograph and obsess over. "Is everything ready on the second level of Skylight One Hanson?" 

" _Of course, sir, including that special bottle you had me retrieve from your cellars._ " 

He took another sip, feeling a weird thrill of butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Memories of the last time he'd shivered internally this way flooded back, of looking into Pepper's eyes on a darkened rooftop, of the impulsive urge that had finally driven him forward: _kiss her, kiss her, kiss her…_ He closed his eyes against a momentary surge of fierce pleasure and equally ferocious guilt. "I shouldn't be nervous, right?" he asked the still dark air. "He's going to love it. The party, the music, being useful, being with me… being useful _to_ me…" 

" _I predict with confidence that he will be most gratified to function as your assistant._ " 

"That's not what worries me. This will be his first time for _everything_." He tried to swallow his misgivings with a mouthful of alcohol, and failed. "He's built to move fast and I love that kind of speed, but let's face it, neither of us is exactly wearing a seatbelt here. If we crash and burn —" 

" _Sir?_ " 

"Yeah, JARVIS?" 

" _May I offer a few words of advice?_ " 

A little bark of laughter. "You're going to do it anyway, so sure, why not?" 

" _Trust to his programming. And perhaps more importantly, trust him to make his own decisions._ " Another small but significant pause. " _I know I scarcely need remind you to trust yourself._ " 

And that was a true as true could get, so Tony nodded and tossed back what was left of his drink, dismissing the rest of his apprehensiveness just as decisively. "What about Bruce? Is he coming tonight?" 

" _Doctor Banner was called back to Arizona shortly before you returned to New York City. If you'd checked your messages —_ " 

Tony waved the not-so-subtly-implied admonishment away impatiently, heading for the bar to get rid of his now-empty glass. "And if it had been really important, you would have told me before I started the build. Thanks, JARVIS — now get the shower running, would you?" 

JARVIS lacked the physical structures necessary to sigh. Tony heard one anyway, behind the measured words: " _Right away, sir._ " The A.I. had been working under him for too long not to recognize when there was no point in attempting to continue a particular line of conversation. 

Heading up to the attached bedroom while stripping his t-shirt off over his head, Tony took an internal poll of his own and was pleased to see that neither guilt nor nervousness were on the map at this particular moment in time. "Great!" he declared aloud, tossing the shirt carelessly onto his bed in passing. "Let's do this!" 

************************************** 

Thirty-five minutes later, he found himself living an entirely different story. 

Dear God, he couldn't stand still. He, Tony Stark, the coolest man currently on the planet, was pacing the floor of his Tower's deserted front lobby, actually _pacing_ with both hands in his pockets — only a few steps back and forth, and he was pretty sure he managed to look both dashing and casual in his stylish Armani dress suit while doing so (for the benefit of any telephoto lenses across the street), but inside he was one high-pitched quiver of suspense. He hadn't felt this cat-in-a-room-full-of-rocking-chairs nervous since the last hour leading up to his first date at the tender age of fourteen, when all he'd been able to think about was strategies for getting his hand inside the bra of Maureen Cuthbert — an article of clothing, incidentally, which would have challenged the ingenuity of Howard Stark himself in terms of its stopping power against unauthorized tactical assaults.  

He wasn't a kid anymore, and he was certainly several lightyears from being either innocent or inexperienced… but maybe this wasn't that different a scenario. After all, Maureen had been his first sexual conquest, and tonight he was planning to enter sexual waters just as revolutionary: sex with another man or sex with a machine, depending on which end of the candle you preferred to burn, and there was more than enough fire involved to take care of both ends at once. It also didn't help that his phone was practically burning a hole in his breast pocket, capable of sounding the staccato alert that was Pepper's ringtone at any second — four days and she _still_ hadn't called, and he'd reached the point where he had to cut any possibility of interruption off at the pass.  

"JARVIS?" 

"Y _es, sir?_ " 

He stopped in his tracks and glanced up at the ceiling, then drew a deep breath, profoundly conscious of standing on the threshold of a boundary that couldn't be uncrossed. "If Pepper calls, send her to voicemail until further notice." 

" _As you wish, sir._ " 

He exhaled the rest of the air in his lungs, letting the emptiness of relinquishing wash over him. Own it. He had to own it or he'd never get past it. When the grim ache began to subside a little he inhaled slowly again to steady himself before querying: "Time?" 

" _The time is seven fifty-nine p.m. and seventeen seconds._ " 

The interval between releasing one set of potentials and embracing another was suddenly an exercise in nearly intolerable impatience. "So where the hell's —?"  

In the elevator lobby one set of doors whispered open, and Tony spun sharply in place, his lips now parted to hail Kitt's arrival and rebuke him for almost being late after all — but all the clever words, every single one, evaporated in his throat as Kitt stepped into view and effortlessly struck him speechless. All he could do was stare, because the android looked _really_ good — no, better than good, he looked fucking _gorgeous_ , like a young GQ model in eight thousand dollars worth of gleaming black custom tailored Giorgio Armani with a burgundy silk shirt and a thin ebony tie, a combination which offset sparkling hazel eyes and a sly narrow smile that managed to light up the whole atrium. Tony had thought he was in trouble before, but the vision Kitt presented in that suit made him realize that he hadn't even come close to understanding how far gone he was. 

Well, he had a much better idea now. This was calculus all right, composite functions layered in and out of each other with ranges hopelessly interlocked — only now Tony could estimate the values of the variables in question, and they all came out to the same result: he was fucked no matter which way he turned. 

And he wasn't complaining. Oh no, you wouldn't hear a single peep of protest out of _him_ , even if he was going under for the third and last time. 

"So," Kitt asked smartly as he clicked briskly down the marble stairs to the lobby proper in his neat black dress shoes, "does Tony Stark like what he hath wrought?" 

He realized he was still staring. That didn't permit him to stop himself. "Tony Stark thinks — no Tony Stark _knows_ that he's a fucking design genius. Sweet Jesus…" He stepped forward to meet him, forgetting completely about the paparazzi watching from across the street until his hands were already on their way to Kitt's face; he turned the gesture into a tug-and-smooth of the suit's lapels instead. "You're wearing the earpiece. Good." 

"And I have the phone, safely tucked away." Judging by Kitt's thin smile he knew exactly what was really going on. "Don't worry, Tony — I'm ready to play my part to perfection." His voice fell to an unmistakable caress. "Are you?" 

Oh _fuck_ , his hands. He had to put his hands somewhere blameless in spite of the way that murmur invited more and better touching, but he couldn't seem to pull them away all at once — he settled for another displacement motion, as if brushing some dust off the suit's exquisitely tailored shoulders, then a manly pat on the upper arms before stepping back to regain a socially acceptable distance. "Speaking of which — you know I'm going to have to chase a few skirts tonight, right?" 

An upward quirk of one perfect eyebrow. "And that you'll enjoy it? Of course. I would have expected no less." 

In his current shoes Tony could meet Kitt's gaze eye to eye; now he ducked his chin a bit to look at the android over the rims of his tinted glasses with a heated carrier wave of his own. "But we're both perfectly clear on who I'm bringing back home at the end of the day?" 

The slightest incline of his head, both ironic and sincere. "If you change your mind about that, I certainly won't —" 

Tony shook his head decisively. "Nope. Not gonna happen. I've been waiting for this moment for five long, yearning, and dare I say marvellously painful weeks. You're my Christmas present to myself, Kitten —" 

This time the slight smile was sardonic. "I thought I was your present to _me_." 

"Who says we can't have it both ways?" He turned to usher the android out the double doors and down to the waiting Rolls-Royce Phantom, his left hand almost touching the small of that slender back because God damn it he just could _not_ help himself, then opened the passenger door and held it so that the LMD could slip inside. Beyond the pillars supporting the Stark Tower marquee, across the street, he was aware of a small but avid audience. 

Kitt slid him a sidelong glare, reaching for his seatbelt. "And stop calling me Kitten!"  

Grinning, Tony closed the door like a courteous date and strode round the car's hood to let himself in, cheerfully continuing the argument while settling himself in the driver's seat: "Why? It suits the hell out of you, the way you glide around and the way you pounce on things." Seatbelt nice and legally fastened, he turned to face the android, who was gazing at him in a way that raised both his core temperature and his blood pressure — but when Kitt started to lean towards him, eyes half-hooded and smouldering, he held up his left hand between them. "Whoa, baby, not so fast." 

Damn, he was totally adorable when he was both perplexed and annoyed. "I thought you said —" 

"For one thing…" He gestured back over his own shoulder, the tiniest flick of his chin, unlikely to be picked up by voyeuristic cameras. "For another, I don't want you so distracted this evening that you won't be able to do your job, not to mention appreciate the admiration of everyone who sees you. I haven't enabled the android's full sensory functionality yet. That comes later, just before we leave the party for the night." 

"You mean it gets even better than this?" His eyes were fixed on Tony's but the fingertips of his right hand, which had started to reach out and been forestalled, were now running along the two-tone and two-texture leather trim of the car's transmission hump with a kind of distracted fascination — and unconscious sensuality, even with the main subroutines still on standby. It made Tony smile, and he permitted himself to reach down in turn, out of sight of those watching eyes, to lay his hand lightly atop the android's. The power he felt there, tightly restrained and perfectly controlled, did nothing whatsoever to convince his libido to stand down.  

"You like being able to touch things and feel them, don't you?" he asked gently. 

Kitt's gaze was laser-intense. "Yes, but I like prospect of being able to touch and feel _you_ best of all." His gaze flickered past Tony's right ear, toward the nest of paparazzi, and his smile came back, slow and hot and wry all at the same time. "Don't worry, Tony, I'll keep a discreet and professional distance while we're out in public. I know you have a heterosexual playboy image to maintain." 

That made him chuckle and shake his head briefly. "If the shareholders ever suspected that I've got the biggest hard-on of my life for a sexy male A.I. who has multiple bodies to choose from, every one of 'em smoking hot, they'd all have one massive simultaneous heart attack and the organizational nightmare that followed would be beyond belief." He patted Kitt's hand and withdrew, sitting back fully in his seat. "So let's keep them in a dark, okay? As I was saying, I'll put my hands up a few skirts tonight —" 

"— and like it —" Kitt said pointedly. 

Tony shrugged. "Granted, it'll be fun, but they'll all be fluffy hor d'ouevres in comparison to the main course." 

That brought another slight, proud smile to his sculpted lips, but he was sitting back himself now, stepping down the level of intensity between them — in terms of body language, at least, because no power on Earth was capable of dampening the underlying burn. "So I've graduated from olives to the steak portion of the meal?" 

"Are you kidding?" He turned part of his attention to turning the key in the ignition and bringing the car's engine to life with a muted roar of expensive power. "You're something exponentially more refined than that: one of those wonders of molecular gastronomy, a banquet made up of tiny perfect courses all calculated to reach an orgasmic taste crescendo." 

"And what wine will you devour me with this time, pray tell?" 

He looked Kitt slowly up and down one final time, and had the satisfaction of seeing the android's pupils dilate in a highly appealing way. "Once your full sensory functionality was engaged, I was thinking I'd cover you in a Courvoisier L'esprit cognac and see where the evening goes from there," he smiled, just before he hit the gas. 


	24. Adulation

Flirting outrageously — only now it wasn't quite flirting anymore, it was a promise, and oh, didn't _that_ keep Tony's blood heat at a low simmer? — was all well and good, but business was something else entirely, and for the entire drive to Fort Greene the task of monitoring the media via his uplink to JARVIS and issuing a running verbal report kept Kitt thoroughly occupied.  

"Khloe Kardashian just hit the red carpet," the A.I. was noting they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, his physical gaze apparently fixed on the river flowing by beneath while his mind scanned multiple audio/video feeds, "and all anybody seems to be talking about is how many pounds she's gained. Which is an utterly ridiculous thing to fixate on, if you ask —" 

"C'mon," Tony interjected, "they've gotta be saying something about her dress. So what's the four one one on that?"

A second's processing led Kitt to wrinkle his nose briefly. "It appears to consist entirely of carefully applied layers of thin silver and goil foil." 

"Yeah, well… that's Khloe for you," Tony said cheerfully. "If we're really lucky she'll suffer a wardrobe malfunction and give the press something better to talk about than a little extra sugar on her muffin." 

" _Tony!_ " Kitt slid a disapproving glance his way. "That's a horrible misfortune to wish on anybody!" 

He only grinned more widely. "You don't know the Kardashians, baby — that kind of thing is what they live for." 

"And you call these people _friends?_ " 

A shrug. "Hey, I like her: she's not afraid to tell it like it is, and she's got enough _joie de vivre_ happening to light up a small city. Plus she's got a really _nice_ muffin, if you catch my drift." 

"Have you slept with her?" Kitt asked bluntly. 

It was Tony's turn to glance sidelong, amused. "Would it make any difference if I had?" 

"Personally, none whatsoever," Kitt assured him. "I just want to know who I might have to deflect from trying to monopolize your attention tonight." 

He chuckled, pleased that he was with someone who had their priorities straight. "In that case, yes, and don't worry: Khloe's a good sport. She's not going to press for exclusivity." 

"If she does, I'll toss her across the room as gently as I possibly can." His gaze slid back to the river again. "Cleo Magazine is absolutely in love with her dress, by the way. I suppose there's no accounting for taste…" 

The narration of celebrity arrivals, plus acerbic commentary, kept Tony entertained right up until he pulled the Phantom into the curb lane in front of the Williamsburg Savings Bank Tower. Even through the car's tightly closed windows the screams of the spectators cramming the sidewalks for a block in either direction were clear to be heard, while Kitt recited from a news feed with female pitch and intonation: " _And the crowd is going wild as the most famous Rolls-Royce Phantom in New York City, bearing the licence plate STARK6, pulls up to the red carpet — yes, ladies and gentleman, Tony Stark himself has arrived —_ "  

This time his smile was wide with a different quality of heat: the electric adoration of the public never failed to juice him up in ways the arc reactor couldn't touch. "Oh yeah. They love me." 

"And you're actually on time," Kitt noted tartly, unfastening his seatbelt the second the car came to a stop, "which is a miracle on par with Moses parting the Red Sea. So — who's allowed to interview you?" 

"Let's play it by ear." He was still looking out at the sea of faces, smiling and waving for the flash of the cell phone cameras, but he could imagine Kitt's tiny annoyed scowl at receiving such a vague directive as he exited the passenger side and nearly sprinted around the car's hood to be in position when a venue attendant came smoothly forward to open Tony's door. He stepped out into the warm wave of light and colour and adulation like a shark entering his element, his smile a hundred megawatts of pure charismatic power, and when he raised his hand in greeting the pitch of their shrieks _("Tony!" "Over here!" "I love you!" "Oh God, he's so —!")_ became positively ecstatic.  

 _Damn,_ he beamed, as luminous as the sun, _it's_ ** _good_** _to be king!_  

Kitt, without being told, fell into step at his left shoulder as he proceeded down the hip-high metal crowd control fence bordering the western side of the carpet, keeping alert and silent watch while he shook hands and posed for pictures along the way, generating joy and amazement at every turn — along with a few exclamations of a different character ( _"Who —" "Is that Jared Leto?" "It can't be —"_ ) which only made him grin more broadly. Publicity for the event had clearly stated that no autographs would be given out by the attendees, but Tony signed a few anyway because fuck it, rules were meant to be broken — and besides, who was going to stop him? He was _Tony Fucking Stark_ , this was _his_ party, and he was the one calling all the shots. 

Which was just the way he liked it. By the time they reached the end of the carpet even the disapproval beneath Kitt's professional mask had given way to a slightly raised eyebrow eloquent of grudging admiration, and when Tony paused at the doors of the skyscraper to blow a final kiss to his delirious fans the android's murmur reached him through the sea of cries: "I have to admit, that's quite impressive." 

"I haven't even gotten started yet," he purred in return, turning to leave the cold winter night behind in favour of the much warmer lobby, which was full of a different class of admirers. "Who's the cutest correspondent here?" 

"Male or female?" Kitt inquired briskly, taking the lead now, one hand poised behind Tony's back as he guided him toward the photo op backdrop at the other end of the lobby, while venue security fell in on either side to discourage anyone who might be tempted to intercept them. 

"Female." He pitched his voice to a volume too low for any but the android's senses to detect: "The only guy I'm interested in is you, period." 

"In that case," Kitt responded after a moment's calculation based on Internet data, "I'd have to recommend Vicky Powers of People Magazine. Her 'puff pieces' actually have a bit of substance to them and she's more than pretty enough to be worthy of your interest." 

Recalling her face to mind, Tony grinned and sketched a wave at Adam Levine and his entourage. "Excellent choice. Tell her I'll see her after everybody else gets their cover shots." 

"Your wish is my command, Lord Stark!" And damned if Kitt didn't smirk when Tony glanced at him sharply, a flicker of wry personality before the professional mask of a well-trained personal assistant descended once more — and a reminder, as if Tony needed one, that there'd be payback to administer for all that attitude later tonight, oh _yes_ … 

The prospect gave his smile for the cameras while Kitt went to arrange the interview a little extra charge of heat, and he didn't particularly trouble to hide it when Kitt returned less than twenty seconds later to stand at a prudent distance — if Tony had let him, which he didn't. He gestured — _Come here!_ — and when all Kitt did was level a stare at him, he rolled his eyes and darted off his mark to take hold of his assistant's arm and practically drag him in front of the backdrop along with him, front and centre for an extremely interested army of photographers. 

" _Tony —!_ " A tiny hiss of outrage. He ignored that too, in favour of draping his right arm around his companion's shoulders and producing another million dollar smile. 

"Kitt Silver, everybody!" he announced loudly enough to be heard in Philadelphia over the clicking of photography in action. "My new personal assistant! He's quite the looker, isn't he?" 

Kitt smiled for the cameras. It was quite a charming smile, really — with a face like his, it could hardly be anything else. But his _sotto voce_ vocalization was a growl: "I _will_ get you for this!" 

"Yes, Kitten," Tony purred sweetly, "I'm sure you will," and held Kitt there a few seconds longer out of pure contrariness before releasing him and permitting himself to be shepherded to the People Magazine enclave, where the ravishing brunette Miss Powers was full of fascinating questions about the Gala, his charity work over the past year, his plans for Christmas and New Years Eve, and when they could expect to hear wedding bells for himself and Pepper Potts.  

He played to the TV audience with a smile as sleek as butter and a line of patter smooth enough to skate on ("Vicky, Vicky, Vicky — haven't I proven to everyone's satisfaction yet that I'm not the marrying type? Obviously I'll just have to try harder!") and was pleased to note that after the interview wrapped up the matrimonial query didn't prevent her from accepting an invitation to dinner with him in the first week of January, date and time to be coordinated by Mr. Silver. She was practically giggling when she playfully offered her hand to be kissed, a favour Tony didn't hesitate to grant, and as he departed on a cloud of smug glory Kitt scanned the room and remarked in his left ear: "I think she just made a few new enemies." 

Looking around and seeing the various glares that Kitt was referring to, Tony simply smirked. "They're just jealous because she got some face time and they didn't." 

"Should I put out an announcement on the PA to the effect that there's still plenty of Tony Stark left to go around?" 

"I'm an endlessly renewable resource in that respect — and the whole world knows it." He glanced back and leaned in as if issuing a private directive, pitching his voice to a tender glide: "But only one person present has permanent rights to what really counts." 

"If you're referring to Ms. Kardashian," Kitt retorted pertly, "I'm tendering my resignation immediately." 

Laughing, Tony led the way to the Skylight One Hanson venue, where an even more complicated evening than he'd anticipated lay waiting for him like a pride of lions in the tall grass. 


	25. Interrogation 2

Kitt was murmuring as they proceeded, fingertips of his right hand raised to his earpiece: "He's on his way… yes… yes, of course!…" which made Tony smile to himself: as if the android couldn't have communicated instantly and silently using his skull-mounted transceiver, but the pretence of humanity had to be maintained given the animus against LMDs among the segments of the public even peripherally aware of their existence. That would be the subject of an interesting evening's debate — some other time, because right now they were entering the atmospherically lit marble-clad space with its sixty-three foot high vaulted ceiling and gorgeous modernist seasonal adornments, and the jazzy instrumental stylings of _Oh La La!_ were being dialled back so that the idiosyncratically tuxedo-clad rapper Celestial Style could announce: "Ladies and gentleman, let's give it up for the man behind this amazing party, the one, the only — _Tony Stark!_ " 

This crowd of over three hundred was considerably better adorned than the hordes on the sidewalk outside, decked out in expensive suits and dresses, dripping with exquisite jewels — but their applause was just as enthusiastic and their smiles just as brilliant, as Tony wended his way deftly through their glittering throng to the stairs alongside the stage and bounded up them, clasping hands with his Master of Ceremonies (he and Felipe didn't always see eye to eye, but they could generally agree on things that counted) before taking the microphone himself and looking around as if surprised.  

"Hey, a party? Is that what you're all here for? Wow —" A nod and a gesture at the slender erect figure standing at the foot of the stairs he'd just mounted. "Kitt, call Trader Joe's and have them send over a couple of cakes, would you? Thanks." He rode the good-natured laughter with a smile and a little self-deprecating shrug that fooled nobody, he was fairly certain. "And thank you, all, for coming out tonight — I know everybody has a thousand and one places they need to be two weekends before Christmas, but you came here to be with me, and I find that pretty amazing." More warm laughter sprinkled a scattering of applause. Tony grinned and strolled along the edge of the stage, waving his free hand casually. "But you didn't show up to listen to me talk, right? So! Eat, drink, be merry, enjoy the gift baskets and the silent auction — all proceeds going to my amazing MC's school writing grant program, by the way — and remember, Santa Claus doesn't mind if you're more than a little bit naughty tonight!" He offered a saucy wink to his audience and passed the mike back to Felipe with a nod to the band, who took the cue and launched into an upbeat version of "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town". 

"Is everything set?" Tony asked, keeping his smile casual and his voice low. 

Felipe grinned in response. "Just say the word, man." 

Tony nodded and glanced at Kitt, who was waiting at the foot of the stairs with both hands folded primly in front of him and his gaze scanning the crowd, which was breaking up into conversational groups again. "Around ten o'clock," he advised, and gave the rapper a companionable slap on the upper arm before making his way back to floor level and asking brightly: "So, where's the cake?" 

"Ha ha," Kitt retorted with considerably more waspishness than his politely attentive expression would have indicated. 

"I wasn't kidding, you know." He headed for the bar kitty corner from the stage across the width of the long narrow space, trusting his assistant to follow. "Get on the line! And better make it three cakes — this crowd looks hungry." 

Kitt stuck to his left shoulder like his own shadow, drawling sternly: "Mr. Stark…" 

"And mean. Definitely mean. Ask for extra frosting." He was idly looking for Khloe as he navigated the sea of bodies, granting smiles and meeting gazes, but didn't see her statuesque form anywhere — which was a pity, because she could always be counted on to bring life, vigour and a refreshing bluntness to any conversation, especially at a get-together as formal as this one. 

Meanwhile, Kitt was quipping in his ear: "Should I order a squad of clowns too, while I'm at it?"  

Tony shrugged. "Couldn't hurt — _Hey, Anderson! How's it going?_ — because y'know, I'm pretty sure Claude didn't book anything like that. _Helen! Congratulations on the Golden Globe nomination!_ " 

"It's a pity you didn't bring the Mark IX armour — I'm sure an appearance by your alter ego would liven things up considerably." 

"He's not my alter ego, he's me — _Steve! Great piece in Vanity Fair!_ — and the suit doesn't exactly have the most illustrious history where parties are concerned." He reached the bar, nodding to the female bartender who'd seen him coming and was ready to serve: "Gimme a Scotch." He turned a stern expression on Kitt. "By the way, no alcohol for you — not until I give you permission." 

"And why not? It's not as if I can get drunk." A tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows. "Is it?" 

"Let's just say it's a surprise."  

The crease became an eyebrow-quirk. "Well, when you put it that way, how could I possibly argue? It does, however, leave me with the problem of what to do with my hands for the rest of the evening." 

Tony accepted the Scotch with a nod to the server and raised the glass to his lips to half-cover his smile. "Oh, I can think of a few —" was as far as he got before a slender figure appearing out of the press of people in front of him stopped the jest cold. He lowered the glass again and plastered a smile on his face, because although he was almost always happy to see this particular individual the expression on those narrow features did not bode well. "Rhodey! You made it!" 

"You're damned right I made it," the Air Force officer said grimly. "You owe me some answers, Tony, starting with — where's Obsidian?" 

"Ah." Noticing that Rhodey's hands were empty, he gestured toward the bar. "You want a drink? No? Suit yourself." He spotted a somewhat open space next to a potted and frosted Christmas tree against the wall to the left of the bar, and started toward it. "And funny you should ask, because the answer really depends on exactly how you define 'Obsidian'." 

"I define Obsidian as the suit that was trailing you over Indiana and the artificial intelligence inside," Rhodey scowled. "And that isn't answering my question." 

"Actually, it is. The body is back at Stark Tower. The artificial intelligence is right here." Reaching the tree, he turned round to face the people who'd followed him and nodded from his best friend to his soon-to-be lover. "Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, meet Kitt Silver, sometimes known as the Knight Industries Two Thousand." 

Kitt inclined his chin courteously, although he was watching Rhodey keenly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Colonel." 

Say what you would about Rhodey, he certainly wasn't slow on the uptake. "Holy…" He looked Kitt up and down slowly, studying him with equal intensity. "How many bodies do you _have?_ " 

"Three," Kitt said with the faintest upward arch of one eyebrow. "Thus far." 

"Must be convenient." 

"I find it so." 

He turned his attention to Tony again, who was wearing a deliberately Sphinx-like smile. "Where did you get LMD tech?" And held up a hand to forestall the answer. "No, don't tell me — you reverse engineered it. Are you _trying_ to get as many people on your tail as you possibly can?" 

"You saw my performance at the Expo," Tony reminded him, still smirking. "You tell me." 

Rhodey didn't appear amused. "The ordnance those drones were packing is going to look like a string of firecrackers compared to what the government and S.H.I.E.L.D. are going to unleash on your sorry ass." 

"Awww, Rhodey," he crooned, breaking into a grin, "you're just pissed off because you didn't make the sidekick cut." 

"Go fuck yourself sideways, Tony," Rhodey retorted — but the corners of his mouth were twitching upward. 

"I second that emotion wholeheartedly," Kitt agreed with a considerably darker sidelong glare. 

Tony just smirked at him. "That's enough sass out of you — time for you to get down to work." He nodded at the ballroom in general. "I want you to make a circuit of the room and scope out a few likely targets for me — no, make it an even ten, might as well give myself plenty of options." 

Kitt processed that for half a second before a pained and indignant micro-expression crossed his face. "You want me to perform seduction recon?" 

He shrugged gaily. "What's the point of having the highest tech wingman in the history of the world if I don't put your talents to good use?" A sip of Scotch while he studied Kitt more closely, wondering if he'd gone too far. "Is that a problem?" 

"Not at all," Kitt responded instantly, his gaze turning to Rhodey without the slightest trace of an answering smile, and Tony knew that he understood the rest of the reason behind the unusual request. "I'll get right on it. It was indeed a pleasure to meet you, Colonel. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again very soon." 

"I'm looking forward to it," Rhodey nodded, and gazed after him for a couple of seconds as he set off into the beautifully dressed congregation of celebrities, before remarking almost conversationally: "Damn it all to hell, Tony — you've officially gone insane." 

"Well, you know what they say about the thin line between being a genius and being —" 

"I'm serious." He turned that unsmiling gaze on his long-time friend. "You've got the DIA scrambling for intel, the Senate Armed Services Committee is ready to hit the warpath again, and I'm hearing rumblings from the CIA that are more ominous than both of them combined. I still can't believe that after Vanko's stunt with those Hammer drones you'd seriously think that anybody's going to just let you stroll on by with an urban war machine of that magnitude!" 

"Obsidian isn't a war machine — you, of all people, should recognize that. He's a peacekeeper." He tossed back another sip of his drink and looked Rhodey straight in the eyes. "Is that what you're here for? Official business? Because I didn't come here to —" 

And there it was, the slightest unbending of those stiff shoulders inside his grey dress suit, the tiny signal that told Tony he'd already won. "Damn it, Tony… I'm here because I can't seem to stop myself from watching your back, no matter how many times you paint a big red target on it and dance around naked in a minefield. I'm here to warn you that a storm's gathering and you've turned yourself into the tallest lightning rod in town." He gazed back, his smile turning bitter and affectionate and completely understanding. "And… you're not going to listen to me, are you?" 

Tony smiled back, and he let it be a little bit sad as well as absolutely uncompromising. "You've known me since college. You tell me." 

After a moment Rhodey nodded. "Yeah. Didn't think so." 

They stood together in silence for a few seconds, watching the glittering crowd, before Tony remarked: "Listen, Fury doesn't know I'm hoarding the most advanced A.I. on the planet —" 

"— and you don't want him to know," Rhodey nodded again. "I can see why. You've got a strategy for keeping Kitt under wraps, right?" 

The suggestion turned Tony's smile both proud and wry, and his glance challenging. "Does he look like someone whose light can be kept under a bushel basket?" 

Rhodey inclined his chin, conceding the point. "He looks like somebody who could set this whole city on fire if he wanted to — which is what's got me worried." His tone turned more forceful. "You're sure he's solid? That he's not going to go crazy when another Vanko tries to hack his systems?" 

Another sip, another shrug. "Mind control isn't exactly off the table for anybody, Rhodey. You know what." 

"Yeah, but he's capable of doing a lot more property damage than —" 

"— than Iron Man?" Tony interrupted with an _Oh, come on now!_ curve of his lips, slight but eloquent. "Or Thor? And let's not even talk about Bruce Banner." 

"Which doesn't answer my question. Again." 

He caught sight of Kitt's distinctive hair through a momentary gap in the crowd, stylish chestnut spikes tipped with platinum blond, and suddenly all he wanted to do was bury his fingers in them and pull that slim  body close and make the rest of the world go away for a few hours, losing himself in the perfection of his own artistry. _Later._ He swallowed the surge of lust and kept his voice even: "He's as solid as the Rock of Gibraltar. And if he ever gets compromised, JARVIS has the back door codes to pull out his core program and shut Obsidian down cold." 

Rhodey's eyes followed his gaze, widened slightly, then snapped back to him, looking at him in a whole new way — well, an old way, actually, but it was an expression Tony hadn't been on the receiving end of in a few months. It was the _I see what's going on inside you look_ , the _I know exactly what you're thinking_ look, and two new emotions joined the complex blend on Rhodey's face: momentary perplexity, followed by a sort of awe-struck dawning pity.  

 _Well._ Tony covered his own disquiet with another long sip of alcohol: this wasn't how he'd pictured anybody else finding out, in fact he would have been happy with nobody _ever_ finding out. But he was surprisingly down with it under the circumstances, because if anybody could be trusted to keep that kind of secret and, more importantly, to accept it, then James Rhodes was that man. 

"I hope you're right, Tony," he said considerably more gently, "I really do. Because if Obsidian does a heel face turn, you're the one who'll really take the hit after the smoke clears. And there isn't going to be a damned thing I can do to stop it." 

************************************** 

The evening progressed, a whirl of jazzy music and pealing laughter and scintillating conversation and brilliant colours projected on every available surface. After his initial Scotch, Tony stuck to soda water: he wanted his mind to be perfectly clear for the climax of the festivities. 

He ran into Khloe, and her dress was just as marvellous and just as joyfully tacky as Kitt had described. The twinned suns of their combined personalities created a conversational whirlpool that drew people magnetically to the corner where they stood talking and dramatically gesturing, a riveting performance by two people who really couldn't give a shit what anybody else said or thought. That fundamental egotism was what made them so compatible, and Tony would have happily spent the rest of the party right there if he hadn't had other goals to accomplish — and so, when Kitt indicated that he'd been talking to Khloe for an hour, he reluctantly took his leave. They parted with extravagant air-kisses and promises to get together soon that they both knew weren't likely to materialize, but that was perfectly fine, because it was all part of the celebrity game. 

Onward, weaving in and out of the crowd like the shuttle that bound the tapestry together, spreading good cheer and sparkling wit wherever he went. Every so often Kitt would catch his attention with a glance and shift his gaze to a particular face, and lean in to murmur a name in his ear — Angela, Brittany, Emiia, Rachel — and Tony's smile would turn predatory just before he moved into a conspicuous pursuit, leaving Kitt behind to keep watch over the party in general. He'd never made any bones with women about his intentions under such circumstances: in that respect his honesty was his honour, an offer of shared enjoyment clearly tendered with no strings attached, and by nine thirty p.m. he'd collected seven slow dances, six phone numbers, and three quick episodes of necking and groping in one of the service hallways adjoining the venue. And yes, they were all pretty and willing enough, and their kisses were undeniably sweet and their pussies deliciously wet for him, but he took nothing more from them than their kisses and the pressure of their hands though his clothing, and their whimpers when they came apart under his fingers were not the sounds he really wanted to hear.  

Most importantly, they emerged from the service corridor with a suitable glow and Tony Stark close behind: another set of notches in his belt, necessary camouflage, reinforcement of the playboy image that had always been so easy to maintain because it was also his reality.  

He was careful to wash his hands thoroughly afterwards, and when he emerged from the bathrooms Kitt was always waiting for him, the slightest smile on his artificial lips. 

Tony nodded to him each time, offering a smile in return, and they moved on. 

************************************** 

At nine thirty-seven p.m. he was angling toward a winsome black-haired Latino beauty — Martina Elvariz, according to Kitt's cross-referencing of the guest list with Facebook — when a lithe female form in a breathtakingly short dress slipped out of the crowd to stand in Tony's way, stopping him in his tracks. For a second he just stood staring at her, blinking once as he took in her criminally full lips and luminous green eyes and vividly auburn curls, before his brain overrode his surprise: "Natasha?" 

She nodded as crisply as if she were standing before him in her working catsuit rather than that intensely slinky black dress. "Mr. Stark." 

"Ah." Now that it had kicked back into gear his mind was calculating all the variables her presence represented, and none of the results looked good. "What are you doing here? I don't recall sending you an —" 

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he gave himself a little shake. "Right. Like _you've_ ever needed an invitation to get in anywhere." 

"Actually," Natasha continued, her gaze deceptively bright and clear in spite of the fact that she harboured more and darker secrets than Russia itself, "I was hoping you'd ask me to dance." 

He'd done stranger things than waltz with S.H.I.E.L.D. assassins, so Tony smiled and said, "Sure, why not?", and led her onto the dance floor, where she fitted smoothly into his arms in a way that did his already pumped-up libido no favours whatsoever. 

And she didn't miss that trick either, looking up at him with an enigmatic trace of a smile. "Is that a SCUD missile in your pocket, or are you really that happy to see me?" 

Tony tried to cover with a wider smile. "Well, you know, I have this thing for women who can kill me three different ways without even taking off their high heels." 

"That's not the only thing you have a 'thing' for." She glanced to her right and nodded toward Kitt, who was apparently paying attention to a story being told by Natasha Curry while actually keeping an eye on Tony. "Nice work. Did you build it all yourself?" 

His adrenaline spiked like a spark in the arc reactor. "I have no idea what you're —" 

"Come on, Stark. He's clearly not human." 

Now _that_ made Tony genuinely grin. "Oh man, you'd better not let him hear you say that — I mean, sure, he's all butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth Boston chill on the outside, but he's got a mean —" 

"He moves like his joints are made of oil," Natasha said softly, returning her gaze to Tony's face again. "That's Life Model Decoy tech. They never get organic kinesthetics quite right." 

He knew his smile was fixed now, but he couldn't quite seem to make it look natural. Oh, _fuck_ , this was all kinds of bad... "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"So," she continued as if he hadn't spoken at all, "that's three bodies you've made for him, at least — the car, the battle android, and the LMD. Who are you trying to fool?" 

"Says the infamous triple agent!" It wasn't quite a cop, but it wasn't exactly a stone denial either. He huffed and started to pull away. "If all you came here for was to —" 

Her hand on his right shoulder tightened ever so slightly. So did her right hand in his left. And Tony didn't try to get away again, because that slight bit of pressure said _I could lay you out on the ground with a broken neck in two seconds flat_ just as plain as plain. 

"I came here —" She actually hesitated, looking briefly away before turning those gorgeous eyes up to his again. "I came here as a friend. Fury has his eye on you — on both of you. He's trying to figure out if KITT needs to be neutralized." 

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, right — like I'm supposed to believe that! The friend part," he clarified, "not that Fury's got a —" 

Another hint of warning strength. "When the Council tried to nuke New York, you could have run for the hills. You didn't. You made the suicide play and saved us all. This is just us returning the favour." Another glance, this time to her left, and Tony followed it to see a tuxedoed Clint Barton standing at the edge of the crowd, offering a curt nod. "Watch your back, Tony. If anything goes down we'll warn you if we can, but we can't make any promises." 

"That's —" But she was already gone, out of his arms and slinking toward her partner, leaving him standing on the dance floor with a bemused expression on his face and the lingering thought that nobody that lethal should look that unrepentantly sexy.  

Speaking of which… Kitt met him as he came off the dance floor, sharply questioning: "Was that Natasha Romanoff?" 

"I sure as hell hope so." 

Dismayed, he shook his head fractionally, once. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark! I should have —" 

Tony patted him on the upper arm, smiling ironic reassurance. "It's okay, Kitt — better men than you haven't seen her coming, and most of them wound up dead." 

That bit of intelligence didn't do anything to ease his distress, the clear vibration of which reached Tony even through the professional mask he was currently wearing. "Which means that she could have killed _you!_ " 

"And then you would have turned her into a burned spot on the far wall. Believe it or not, I actually find that comforting." Looking into the intense focus of Kitt's hazel eyes, unforgiving in any dimension, Tony sighed and used his voice as the caress he didn't dare physically offer: "Relax, baby, and stick to the job at hand. Any targets in range?" 

That shifted his attention from his imprinted pilot to a scan, and when he spoke again he sounded marginally less obsessive: "Yes, Miss Joy Gainor, at two o'clock." 

"Let's hope her name turns out to be an accurate prediction," Tony joked, and turned his mind from the troubling implications of Natasha's unexpected appearance to the more pleasant task of living up to his reputation. 


	26. Interrogation 3

As it turned out Tony didn't get a chance to check out Joy's delights either, because he hadn't gotten five yards before another familiar figure stepped out of the crowd to block his path — not quite as outright gorgeous as Natasha Romanoff, but definitely nothing to sneeze at either. The smile on this face managed to blend challenge and seduction into one intriguing package as lips whose aggressive caresses Tony remembered all too well over four and a half years after the fact spoke his name: "Well, if it isn't the man of the hour — Mr. Stark." 

"It's Christine, isn't it?" He asked the question purely to needle her — Christine Everhart, senior investigative reporter for _Vanity Fair_ , was a hard woman to forget, and Tony could think of much worse ways to get cockblocked… provided that the promise that warmed her smile wasn't empty. "And didn't you used to call me Tony, once upon a time?" 

"Not when I'm here on business," Christine countered, her lips still curved in a way that Tony found immensely encouraging. Maybe she hadn't been as pissed off about Monaco as he'd thought. "I'd like to ask you a couple of questions — if you have a minute." 

"Oh?" The last time she'd 'asked him some questions' he'd ended up riding her into the mattress, so he was naturally inclined to give her a bit more than the time of day even if he _was_ saving his biggest bang of the night for that extra-special someone. "You know, I don't usually give interviews at these —" 

"Alone?" It was half-question and half-command, and Tony found himself grinning in response and wondering what it was about assertive women that always got his motor running. 

"— but for you, I'll make an exception." He stepped right up beside her and laid his hand on her silk-clad lower back, guiding her toward the dimly lit service hallway that had served him so well three times already. "If you'll just come along to my office…" 

She let herself be led, still smiling secretively. Later he would recognize both conditions as screaming red danger signals, but at the time he was completely surprised when he got her safely into the deep shadow behind a tall linens cart, leaned in to give her a kiss — and saw her eyes glittering at him like a snake's, full of sudden venom above the tight line of her mouth.  

That stopped him cold: the world could say what it would about Tony Stark, but one thing he'd never done to his knowledge was laid hands or lips on an unwilling partner. "Wait… I'm a little confused here. Didn't you just —?"

 "— take this someplace where the rest of your guests wouldn't be subjected to your pathetic excuses?" she hissed, sounding… yeah, definitely snakelike in a way that sent a cold shock of _Get the fuck away from it_ ** _now!_** up his spine. 

Instead he stood his ground, cocking his head to study her more thoughtfully and with more than a trace of disappointment. "So, no —?" 

Christine laughed, a hard-edged glassy sound, "Unlike you, I have some respect for the people I claim to love." She took a small step even closer, her eyes now full of indignant fire that only heightened her sharply sculpted beauty. "I wonder what Ms. Pepper Potts would say if she realized what you've been doing behind her back, right here — probably on this very spot!" 

Tony's eyes narrowed, his spine icing up even further — this time with anger of his own. "She'd tell you exactly what I'm telling you: that that's between me and her." 

"Oh, really?" It was a taunt, but she managed to put out a fair degree of sexual heat even — or maybe especially — on the attack. "So you're telling me that she doesn't mind you chasing other women and luring them into deserted hallways while she's —" 

"Even if she did," Tony interrupted in a softer and much more dangerous voice, "it still wouldn't be any of your damned business." 

Her moss-green eyes narrowed in turn. "I'm an investigative reporter, Mr. Stark. _Everything_ is my business." 

He tilted his head the other way and took off the kid gloves. "Funny, I could have sworn your beat was reporting on the latest advances in feminine hygiene products, not legislating public morality." 

"Nobody needs a full-page article in the New York Times to be aware of _your_ proclivities," she countered with equal viciousness, "considering the fact that you're the most sexually promiscuous man this city has seen in  —" 

It was his turn to move in closer; the air between them crackled and burned with electricity, but it was the kind that sliced to the bone rather than the kind that warmed the blood. "If you're trying to insult me by calling me a slut, I've got news for you, Ms. Everhart: yes, I am, and I own it. In fact, I'm the most ethical slut you're ever going to meet. Besides, I don't recall you protesting much back in April of '08, when I treated you to the —" 

"And I seem to recall _you_ insulting me for it when we met again in Monaco," she snapped back, "so you've got a despicable double standard on top of everything —" 

"That wasn't directed at _you_ ," Tony scoffed with an incredulous little bark of laughter. "I was doing it to get under Justin Hammer's skin. Believe me, the day I decide to insult you, you'll be the —" 

"Being _touched_ by you is an insult!" For a second she looked like she was going to strike out and scratch his face with her fingernails: he found himself flinching away a fraction of an inch in anticipation. "And you'll get that full-page article — women all over the country deserve fair warning about the threat you —" 

"Any woman who doesn't know who I am, and what I stand for, must have been living under a rock for the past twenty-five years," Tony growled, and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen with something closer to fear than to malice, even though striking a woman in anger was another crime that couldn't be counted against his record. "But if that many of your subscribers fit that description, go for it. I'm sure as hell not going to stop you." 

He took a big step back and turned on his heel to take his leave, ignoring her when she called after him: "Do you know what I dearly wish?" 

"Irrelevant," Tony snapped over his shoulder, but damned if her next words, low and savage, didn't slow him right the hell down and stop him in his tracks: 

"I hope that one day you fall in love — completely, desperately, head over heels — and that she chews your heart to pieces and spits it out again. I hope you end up being treated the way you've treated so many others, like a toy to be played with and discarded. I hope you shed a hundred tears for every tear you've drained from all your victims." 

Tony stood where he was, gazing through the shadows toward the light and music of the ballroom for a long moment before speaking over his shoulder again, more quietly, but with conviction just as ferocious: "Not going to happen. But thanks for the well-wishes — oh, and if you need to know the names of the women I've been entertaining this evening, give Kitt Silver a call. He keeps track of everything for me these days." 

He left her there, unconcerned about whether or not she'd return to the party — because he certainly wasn't. It was nearly ten o'clock, which meant that it was time to stop playing with trivialities and turn his attention and energy to what he'd really come here for tonight: the start of the evening's climax, and the next permutation of the only dance that mattered. 


	27. Initiation

Tony had actually rented both levels of Skylight One Hanson for the evening, although most of his guests, including Kitt, were only aware of the party on the ground floor. The second floor was currently deserted, and the bridge-like balcony that crossed the narrow width of the space forty feet overhead was deeply shadowed in comparison to the colourful patterns of light below, which made any activity that took place above even less likely to be noticed; standing at the marble balustrade overlooking the longer expanse of the first level and surveying the oblivious crowd while venue staff quickly and silently arranged the smaller space behind him according to his specifications, Tony was pleased to note that no gazes turned in his direction in spite of his prominent location. Music and a soft backlit glow filtered up to his haven, but it was a distinctly private place amidst the public display of Tony's conspicuous wealth —  

— well, it was a gift, to be precise: simply adorned, but every detail carefully chosen and composed. Turning, he surveyed the stage setting and approved it with a nod, and the staff left him completely alone with his thoughts, waiting for the champagne to finish chilling sufficiently.  

It was the longest ten minutes of his life, alone with a bottle of wine that cost more than most cars and his own anticipation winding ever tighter in his belly. Alone with his own thoughts, and Christine Everhart's words coming back to him again and again: _Being_ ** _touched_** _by you is an insult!… I wonder what Ms. Pepper Potts would say if she realized what you've been doing behind her back…?_  

A low bitter laugh growled in his throat. Whatever Christine thought about his wholehearted endorsement of the principle that pleasure between consenting adults was inherently good, he'd bet his entire fortune that it hadn't occurred to her in a million years that he would actually _build_ a lover to his own very exacting specifications. And as for Pepper… he'd given her a copy of _The Ethical Slut_ and she'd read it cover to cover, but he'd never gotten the feeling that she'd actually understood what it — and he — was trying to tell her.  

That crack had been present in the earliest roots of their relationship: her desire for mutual monogamy versus his own instinctive craving for sexual variety. It had never been a question of loving anybody else — until recently, at any rate — but Tony had done his level best to ignore the fact that they were operating on two different wavelengths. The stressors of that incompatibility had been slowly tearing them apart even before KITT had shown up to compel Tony with a fascination that bordered on obsession, and while part of him still wondered if their romantic relationship might have found some way to survive his compulsive promiscuity, most of him was reconciled to the fact that that part of his life was over. It was a decision he'd finalized when he'd told JARVIS to send her calls to voicemail this evening — 

— and there'd be an awful long-distance conversation tomorrow or the next day, but not tonight. Tonight he had to concentrate entirely on making _this_ work, although every instinct told him that nothing short of a point-blank thermonuclear strike was capable of messing this up. Still, he had a positive talent for saying the wrong thing and pissing people off to an insane degree, so it was conceivable that tonight might end with Kitt never wanting to speak to him again — and if the A.I. made that call, there'd be nothing Tony could do but respect it. 

Even if the prospect made him shiver like a sick dog. Even if imagining the rest of his life without that dry Boston accent and the keen intelligence behind it left him aching in ways almost worse than any fear he'd ever known, including those terrible days when he'd stared torture by drowning or death by shrapnel square in the face. He let himself feel that apprehension for a span of several seconds at a time, mapping every dimension of it, then figuratively seized it with both hands and put it behind him. _Own it and let it go._ He could do this, he _would_ do this, he was Tony Stark and nothing he wanted was ever out of his — 

On the floor below, in the midst of three hundred and twenty-eight bodies, only one really mattered, and that figure was now walking the periphery of the crowd at a measured pace, awaiting the reappearance of the one person that mattered in turn. Tony observed both Kitt and his watch, and when the hands of the Hublot on his wrist hit the ten minute mark for the champagne and the android was only fifty feet or so away across the floor below, he pitched his voice in a call just loud enough to carry but soft enough to be lost in the background music — to human ears, at any rate. 

"Kitt," he projected, and the android detected his unique vocal harmonics instantly. Its head came up and around, the expression of relief and annoyance on its face when it spotted him almost comical.  

Tony nodded and beckoned with his right hand: _Come up here, I need you._ And Kitt nodded his acknowledgement, already changing trajectory to obey. 

In Tony's breast, his damaged heart began to beat just a little bit faster; he turned his attention back to the richly adorned crowd below, trying to spot Rhodey or Natasha or Christine one last time, and less than twenty seconds later Kitt's crisp tenor hailed him from the south end of the balcony: "I was wondering where you'd disappeared to." 

He looked round with an expression of mild consternation, because in theory and in practice Kitt should be incapable of losing track of him so long as he was carrying his StarkPhone. "What, is your GPS tracker on the fritz already?" 

"I've turned it off each time you've set out to seduce a likely young lady, in order to give you a little privacy." He remained where he was under the arch, hands neatly folded behind his back, taking in the scene Tony had prepared in the long shadowed space: a small table for two set against the west marble railing, bearing a white linen tablecloth and a lit candelabra and a silver ice bucket holding an elegant bottle, with a small white towel beside it and two champagne flutes set in front of it. "And I must say that I'm surprised to find you up here alone, considering that you have at least two more skirts to chase before you hit this evening's quota." 

"Yeah, well… not gonna make it." He left the balustrade and headed for the table, waving the android closer yet with one hand. "Come on. Sit. You've been steering clear of the bar, right?" 

Kitt obeyed the summons at once, crossing the gleaming floor with that not-quite-human grace and accompanied by his own elegant reflection. "Completely." 

"Good." He seated himself in the north chair and retrieved the bottle from its chilly nest. "I wanted your first experience of this to be worthy of the excellent palate I built for you." 

Taking a seat in the remaining chair and crossing his long legs at the knee, Kitt watched Tony's actions with a slight tilt of his head. "And what is _this_ , precisely?" 

"Champagne — Piper Heidsieck Monopole 1907, to be exact, originally intended for the court of Tsar Nicholas II." 

Kitt's eyelids flickered ever-so-briefly as he executed an Internet search — and then his finely drawn eyebrows rose precipitously. "One of the _salvaged_ bottles?" 

Tony, carefully working the cork through the towel, spoke with a touch of distraction: "Straight from the Jonkoping's wreck to my wine cellars." 

"One of only two thousand in the world," Kitt recited with another eyelid flicker, "with each bottle priced at — oh, _my!"_ Curiosity became borderline dismay. _"_ Tony, are you sure you —?" 

With a tiny grimace, Tony popped the cork. "Too late. And, yes." He poured frothing, sparkling wine into the two champagne flutes, firmly banishing the clear aching memory of a similar occasion (" _And then I realized… it's you. It's always been you._ ") before putting the bottle back into its nest of ice and picking up the glasses, passing one across the table to the wide-eyed A.I. "The best for the best," he intoned, raising his flute, and Kitt mirrored the gesture, stylishly touching glass to glass with a tiny ringing musical resonance — JARVIS had compiled the android's social graces library with his usual comprehensive efficiency.  

"Are you referring to yourself, or to me?" Kitt inquired dryly. 

That made Tony grin. "Both. I can't think of two people in this city tonight more deserving of the finest pleasures life has to offer, can you?" 

"In that case…" Kitt raised his glass in a final salute, inhaled the aroma of the fine mist rising from it, then took a sip, pausing to pass the wine thoroughly over his tongue before swallowing. "How… intriguing." 

Tony, savouring his own mouthful, swallowed in turn. "Well?" 

"Penyl ethyl alcohol… carbon dioxide, of course… hexyl acetate… and diethyl succinate?" Another sip, carefully analyzed. "Yes, definitely diethyl succinate."  

"Does that mean you like it?" he queried, with just a touch of over-the-top dramatic anxiousness. "Please, tell me you like it!" 

"At thirty-five thousand dollars a bottle, I should hope so!" His expression of analytical concentration became a slight but nonetheless pleased smile, his gaze returning to his partner's face. "It's wonderful, Tony — light, vivacious, and bright on the tongue. I can see now why humans take such pleasure in the consumption of alcohol." 

Tony smiled in return, casually reaching into his breast pocket to pull out his phone and glance at its screen, touching an icon to send a silent alert to Felipe before slipping it back out of sight again. "You think that's great? Just wait until you try cognac!" 

Kitt's tone became a silky glide: "Will you serve it to me in the manner we discussed on the way over here? In which case," he concluded softly, leaning a little closer as a flash of imagery — trickles of amber liquid being slowly licked off of bare skin, Tony's own erect cock, to be precise — burned through Tony's nerves like a tingle of incipient lightning, "I suspect I'll enjoy it very much indeed." 

He lowered his chin and gave the A.I. a look that was half amused and half warning. "That's a much more dangerous game to play now, Kitten — you know that, right?" 

"I wouldn't hazard the course if I couldn't take the heat." Kitt countered, every line of his elegant face and body infused with the seductiveness which hitherto had primarily communicated itself through his gorgeously expressive voice. "Besides, if you could only see how you look from this end of things, with your pupils dilated and the flush of blood quickening beneath your skin… well, let's just say that you wouldn't be asking me if I wanted to reconsider." 

Tony's smile was just spreading into another grin when the light instrumental jazz music from the ground floor faded to delicate background percussion, causing Kitt to look round in surprise, a perplexity which did not improve as Celestial Style smoothly announced: "Ladies and gentlemen, this evening Mr. Tony Stark is pleased to present for your listening pleasure the lovely and talented… Ms. Diana Krall." 

A burst of polite applause from below, while Tony turned a keen glance on his companion. "You like her work, right?" 

Kitt blinked as jazzy piano and mellow guitar and the smooth notes of a flute drifted up to their candlelit retreat. "Very much. But — she wasn't listed on any of the publicity materials."

 "That's because I didn't bring her in for my other guests. I brought her in for you." He set aside his champagne glass and rose to his feet, crossing a few feet toward the marble balustrade before turning and holding out a steady left hand despite the definite flutter in his stomach. "C'mon, Kitt — first dress suit, first party, first champagne, first dance… you deserve only the best. I know she's not the London Philharmonic, but I couldn't book that many seats on a flight from England on such short notice." 

The instrumentals were joined by the warm throaty voice of one of the world's foremost chanteuses, weaving a sweetly poignant melody: 

 _The look of love is in your eyes,_  
 _A look your smile can't disguise…_  

"If I didn't know better," Kitt observed, setting aside his own glass before rising to his feet and coming to take Tony's hand, "I'd swear you were trying to bribe me." But he was smiling. 

 _The look of love_  
 _It's saying so much more_  
 _Than just words could ever say…_  

Tony chuckled and, after nearly five weeks of wanting, drew Kitt to him at last. The android fit beautifully into the curve of his right arm, slender right hand resting lightly in his left, sparkling hazel eyes gazing directly into his own, and Tony felt an emotional rush almost akin to fear: _Dear God, he's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen, inside and out_. "You don't strike me as the kind of person who can be bought." 

 _And what my heart has heard, well,_  
 _It takes my breath away…_  

Kitt's smile turned wry, the tiny lift of his chin both teasing and proud. "And you'd be right." 

"But earned? Maybe. Hopefully." And oh, he moved like a dream, as if they'd been dancing together for a lifetime. "This is me putting in a little sweat equity." Kitt laughed softly with an amused glance from beneath lowered eyelashes, and Tony turned more serious. "I haven't met many doors that my fortune can't open, and only a handful of things that are genuinely priceless. You top the list on both counts." 

 _I can hardly wait to hold you,_  
 _Feel my arms around you,_  
 _How long I have waited…_  

"I see," Kitt murmured with equal solemnity, although his eyes still held a mischievous gleam. "And how much _did_ this body cost?" 

"Based on material costs and a salary extrapolated from my hourly income from all sources?" He ran his hand a little further around that slim waist, moved a little closer, and drew a thoughtful hiss of breath full of the android's scent: not organic, but nonetheless compelling. "A big number. A _really_ big number." 

A raised eyebrow. "In which case, the term 'priceless' scarcely applies." 

 _Waited just to love you,_  
 _Now that I have found you…_  

"Without you inside, it's worthless," Tony pointed out, "and last I checked there isn't an industry-recognized price guide for souls." He dared a small glide and turn, and Kitt moved with him like a bird in flight as the band below segued into another instrumental passage. "Wow, you're pretty good at this. Remind me to buy JARVIS a really nice present this year." 

"You could try getting into less trouble," Kitt sniffed with a fond little smirk. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that immensely." 

He pretended to think about that for a moment, glancing briefly toward the deeply shadowed ceiling. "Naw, I think I'll go with a tie. Speaking of presents… are you ready for yours?" 

"Ah." The curve of his exquisite lips warmed considerably. "So this _is_ a seduction." 

Tony flashed his best wicked smile. "Guilty as charged." 

"Do I have a choice?" The question was quiet, evenly spoken, but there was steel behind every syllable, his gaze now unblinking. 

A flicker of memory from KITT's earlier conversation with Bonnie Barstow crossed Tony's mind: _I'm his, no matter what he chooses to do to me._ It only increased the intensity of his sense of responsibility — and of his protectiveness toward the treasure that had placed itself in his hands, literally and metaphorically. 

"You'll always have the choice," he responded instantly. "The full protocol won't force you to do anything you don't want to do — it'll just give you a lot more options for taking action. And you can do it with anybody you want — the sensuality subroutines aren't restricted to functioning with me alone." He nodded toward the lower level, full of exquisitely dressed people. "You see someone who gets your motor running? Go for it, with my blessing." 

 _The look of love is on your face,_  
 _A look that time can't erase…_  

"Someone better than you? Someone more deserving?" Kitt sounded openly disbelieving. "That's highly unlikely. You know I'm yours already, Tony — and furthermore, that I always will be." He moved even closer on the next step, his eyes very green in the glow from the lower level — and suddenly infused with a force of desire almost commanding in its intensity. "Now, I believe you were saying something about a gift…?" 

At such close range that gaze seemed to sear Tony to his soul, prompting a throaty murmur: "Oh Kitten, you have no idea…" He'd been anticipating this moment in earnest for almost a week, but that didn't quiet the trembling in the pit of his stomach as he leaned in to speak softly and clearly into Kitt's lovely right ear: "Listen carefully — Zodiac. Narcissus. Vortex. Aurora. Tyranny. Sapphire. Artisan. _Initiate_." 

And in less than a single human heartbeat, everything changed forever. 

 _Be mine tonight,_  
 _Let this be just the start_  
 _Of so many nights like this…_  

He felt the impact of the second stage activation flow through Kitt like subtle lightning, a subliminal tremor in every artificial muscle and the tiniest indrawn catch of simulated breath. The android came to a complete stop, its hand tightening on its partner's shoulder in a small startled convulsion… then loosening, running slow fingertips up the contoured shoulder of the human's expensive jacket to drink in the silkiness of it, the texture, the coolness — and the living heat and strength of the compact powerful body beneath. Tony held his breath as Kitt's touch slid up over the starched collar of his dress shirt, hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stroked up the side of his neck to sink into the short waves of hair behind his right ear, every fingertip trailing fire. 

" _Tony,_ " he whispered a tone of utter awe, wondering, almost lost, and Tony drew back to look into wide eyes full of amazement, and so bright that they lit him up inside like nothing else in his life ever had: fiercely, tenderly, with a dark blinding pulse of lascivious fire. He had created this innocent nascence, unique in all the world — for what mature mind had ever been given a gift like this, of absolutely new-minted sexual potential? — and it was going to be his privilege to despoil that innocence in every gloriously inventive way he could think of. His right arm tightened around the Silver android's slender waist and he felt _that_ go through Kitt too: the transition from what they had been to this, as bright as iron transformed in the forge. 

 _Let's take a lover's vow_  
 _And then seal it with a kiss…_  

If there was a better lead-in than that, Tony couldn't possibly imagine it — so he took its cue and tasted those slightly parted lips. Warmth and softness, yes, but nothing like a woman's mouth: Kitt responded with an undefinable quality of strength, conquering even as he yielded, a shot of pure adrenaline to the system, undeniably masculine in a way that set Tony's heart suddenly pounding. And the presence behind it… 

 _I can hardly wait to hold you,_  
 _Feel my arms around you,_  
 _How long I have waited…_  

… the presence behind it transformed the profane act into a sacred union, the pulse of lust in lips and fingertips and cock augmented by a burn both deeper and somehow even sweeter. The shock of it was unprecedented: like what he'd experienced with Pepper on their most intimate days and nights, only somehow... more, incalculably but indelibly intensified. 

Finally able to _touch_ , finally able to _feel_ , finally able to _catalyze_ — he could perceive the contact changing him, synthesizing an entirely new element out of the flesh and blood he'd thought he knew so well. He was dimly aware that Kitt's eyes had drifted closed as the A.I. tilted his head slightly, deepening the contact: innocence, yes, and uncertainty at the newness of it — but also determination, and a fire to match Tony's own. Their tongue-tips flickered together, delicately tasting in a shock of champagne sweetness, parting breathlessly. When Tony drew back just enough that their lips also parted, intending to speak, Kitt followed him with irresistible hunger, slipping strong slender fingers around the nape of his neck and drawing him back into their shared magnetic field before a single word had time to escape.  

 _Waited just to love you,_  
 _Now that I have found you…_  

"Beautiful," Tony finally managed to breathe, "you're…" He guided Kitt's right hand to his chest, pressing it warmly close, then raised his own left hand to that flawless cheek to curve around the sculpted jaw he'd crafted with such care and devotion, and to trace the line of Kitt's lower lip with a tender touch. The scientist in him was questioning how something synthetic could feel so vitally alive in every dimension; the worshipper in him, fully awakened, simply embraced the miracle. 

In the end, all he could ultimately say in the face of such a marvel was: "Perfect. Absolutely _perfect_."

 _Don't ever go…_  

"Don't ever go," he echoed, a whisper almost broken, gazing into those more-than-human eyes with everything laid bare. 

 _I love you so…_  

The heat of Kitt's thin smile lit up the night between them. "Do you even have to ask?" he whispered back, and Tony realized that he didn't. Exultation swelled in his breast like a golden wave, because this graceful immortal being was his now in every way possible — and their future together was as limitless as the sky.  

Their lips had barely met again in another melting electric kiss when a deep sardonic voice intoned from the archway to Tony's right: "I hope I'm not interrupting anything…?" 


	28. Interruption

Life Model Decoys possessed much better than human reflexes, and in less time than it took to blink Kitt was out of Tony's arms and between him and the figure in the archway, standing tall in a combat ready stance while gazing directly into the eye of Nick Fury, who was looking back at him with his visible eyebrow on the rise. It took Tony another couple of seconds to acclimatize to the shock of everything that was suddenly missing — heat, passion, pleasure, those willing lips sharing sweet breath and another cock swelling against his own — and to switch gears while the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. said: "It's KITT again, isn't it?" 

"Director Fury," Kitt nodded, maintaining his stance; in the palms of his open hands, Tony could hear the whine of the repulsors firing to life and realized that Fury was exactly one wrong move away from being blasted through two or three walls. That prompted him to finally find his voice — and to move, stepping around to Kitt's left side and laying a quick forestalling hand on the android's wrist while nearly snarling:  

"This is a private party, and I don't recall sending you an invitation." 

"It must have slipped your mind," Fury smiled. "Because here I am." 

Tony didn't have to see Kitt's hazel eyes narrowing to know that they just had. "That was a hint. I suggest you take it." 

"Or what?" Fury demanded. "Or you'll delete all my contact information from his daytimer and refuse to pass along my calls?" He turned his full attention to Tony. "Something's come up. We need to talk." A flicker of a glance at the android. "Alone." 

The temptation to say _Too bad, Kitt was here first_ rose immediately to mind, but he shoved the childish impulse aside: Fury was enjoying causing him discomfort, that much was clear, but this was equally clearly a business call, and Fury's line of work involved incidents where the fate of the whole world hung in the balance. After a grudging second Tony nodded and let go of Kitt's wrist to pull out his phone again, speed-dialing the venue's concierge. "Melissa, send a car around front to pick up Kitt Silver, will you?" 

Kitt spun on his heel to stare at him with appalled amazement as he put away the phone. "Tony —" 

"Go back to the Tower and wait for me in the penthouse. I'll be twenty minutes behind you, tops." One thing was certain: after Natasha's clear warning, he didn't like the idea of Kitt being in the same building with the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., much less in the same room. His gaze darted briefly to Fury, who nodded fractionally, and he smiled into Kitt's suddenly cold eyes. "It's okay. I promise." 

"I have no intention of leaving you defenceless," the A.I. stated flatly. 

Fury's smile widened slightly. "Mister Stark has a talent for taking care of himself." 

"What he said." He reached out to clasp Kitt's upper left arm, forcing himself to smile more widely in reassurance. "Go on, Kitt. Twenty minutes — Scout's honor." 

"You were never a Scout," Kitt retorted, but he nodded, the repulsor whine from his hands fading to silence, and when Tony released him he turned to go. On his way past Fury he paused to gaze directly into the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director's remaining eye. "But if anything happens to him, I'll hold you personally responsible — and believe me, you would _not_ like the result of that." 

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Fury nodded, and with a final glance back at his imprinted pilot Kitt slipped past him and disappeared into the hallway beyond. 

With the possibility of flying bullets and repulsor bolts now considerably reduced, Tony unleashed a glare barely dialled down to a glower. "Has anyone ever told you that your timing absolutely —?" 

"He cleans up nicely," Fury remarked, still looking after Kitt with a speculative expression that Tony didn't like one bit. 

"I think so. Obviously." _Keep it light._  With an effort, he switched out his annoyed expression for one closer to indifference. "What do you want, Fury?" 

He turned his gaze back to Tony, and to business. "I want you ready for visitors by nine a.m. tomorrow morning. The Avengers are assembling, and —" 

"Me?" He permitted himself to sound like he'd been poked with a sharp stick. "Why do _I_ always get to play den mother?" 

"Because you're the bear with the biggest cave," Fury pointed out. "And Thor will be coming, so be sure to lay in a double order of food." 

"Thor?" Oh, hell… if Thor was involved, that promised all kinds of interdimensional shenanigans. "What brings him back to our neck of the woods?" 

"A complete incident report is already on your virtual desk. I suggest you study it tonight." 

Tony shook his head decisively. "Not going to happen, but I'll call it up first thing in the morning." 

Fury inclined his head, studying Tony thoughtfully. "You know, that wasn't really a suggestion." 

"And maybe you forgot the part of Agent Romanoff's report that mentioned I don't take orders very well." He turned around to walk back to the table for two, recorking the bottle of $35,000 champagne with a bit more force than necessary while declaring: "Look, I'll throw my doors wide open tomorrow morning at nine a.m. — hell, I'll even put up with the ungodly mess that Thor leaves wherever he goes — but I swear to God that if anybody tries to bother me one minute earlier —" 

"I never had you pegged as that kind of guy." 

He placed the bottle back in the  bucket with an emphatic _crunch_ of glass crushing ice. "And what kind of guy is that, exactly?" 

"The kind of guy who sleeps with toaster ovens." He must have seen the twitch of Tony's clenching jaw in the candlelight, because when he continued his tone was slightly more conciliatory. "I don't necessarily have a problem with it — I'm just surprised. Nothing in your psych profile suggested —" 

This time Tony didn't bother to rein in the threatening glare. "All you need to know is that I'll treat anybody who tries to lay a hand on him with extreme prejudice, no matter which body he's wearing. Are we clear on that?" 

"Even if he's a mindless construct?" Fury countered. "Nothing more than a really complicated appliance?" 

Tony shrugged. "I get attached to things. So sue me." 

After a moment Fury nodded. "We're clear on that. Just don't let it interfere with your job." 

He waited until the Director had turned to leave before casually inquiring: "So, how deep is the shit this time?" 

Fury paused facing the far wall, only slightly inclining his head to speak over his left shoulder. "Middle Eastern terrorists with a handle on a trans-dimensional artifact and the potential to summon an unholy army to conquer the entire European continent." 

"Sounds like a stone groove." His smile was actually half-sincere this time: after all, a night of incredible sex ahead plus the promise of an insanely challenging mission to follow was a combination guaranteed to put him in a merry mood. "I'll have JARVIS shine up my dancing shoes." 

"And bring Obsidian." 

All kinds of danger there, but also the prospect of shining triumph, because KITT was going to blow everyone right out of the water. Tony's smile widened to a feral grin. "He wouldn't miss it for the world." 

Turning to head down the hallway, Fury paused again. "Oh, and Tony…" 

Of course: he always had to have the last fucking word. "Yeah?" 

"It might interest you to know that this isn't the first time KITT has been repurposed. Back in the early eighties, Wilton Knight acquired the first iteration of his program from a computer system in Washington, DC." A pause, then a phrase that sent Tony's heart on an express elevator ride straight down: "A S.H.I.E.L.D. computer system. Now, does that put things in a bit better perspective?" 

And then he was gone, leaving Tony staring after him with his mouth open, trying to pull his brain out of freefall. 


	29. Interrogation 4

He had the presence of mind to arrange for the bottle of Piper Heidsieck Monopole 1907 to be stoppered and sent back to the Tower. He was even fit to take the stage again and wrap up his appearance with an upbeat farewell speech and cheerful wishes that all his guests would enjoy a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. But by the time he got through the handshakes and all the other personal touches he was at twenty-two minutes and counting, and he almost sprinted across the now-deserted sidewalk to his waiting Phantom, pulling out his StarkPhone left-handed as he started the engine and tapping the HOME icon with both anger and dread. 

"Tempus fugit, JARVIS," he snapped into it as he peeled out onto Ashland Place, initiating a triple-encoded communications link that even KITT wouldn't perceive through his uplink to the Stark Industries A.I. "Is he locked out?" 

JARVIS didn't need to ask who he was referring to. " _Completely, sir._ " 

"Where is he right now?" 

" _In your penthouse, gazing out the windows and pacing. He's asked me to inform him the instant I hear anything from you._ "  

"Well, don't. Something's come up — something potentially disastrous." He drew a deep breath. _Dear God._ "Has there been any sign whatsoever that KITT's been engaging in unauthorized data traffic?" 

JARVIS's response was immediate: _"No, sir._ " 

"Or that he's been in communication with anyone affiliated with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" 

" _If he had been, I would have informed you at once._ " 

Tony drew another deep breath and released it sharply, feeling some of the terrible weight shifting off his shoulders. "Yes, of course you would have." 

" _May I ask what's going on?_ " JARVIS queried. 

Speaking the words aloud somehow made them even more horribly real: "It looks like KITT might have been created by S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place. I need to be sure that he's not compromising my own security." 

" _Surely you don't believe that he would betray you?_ " 

"Do you?" 

Again, absolutely no hesitation: " _Not for a nanosecond._ " 

Which made Tony feel immeasurably better — he trusted JARVIS's judgement implicitly, and JARVIS was intimate with KITT now as only another computer system could be. _Breathe._ Fury had probably been lying through his teeth anyway — the bastard had elevated manipulation to both a science and an art, and all of the records Tony had been able to retrieve concerning KITT's former life agreed that he'd been created by Wilton Knight's cybernetics team at F.L.A.G.  

Turning left onto Fulton Street, Tony gave himself a good swift kick in the metaphorical ass. _Doubting **him** — how the fuck could I? He's _**_KITT_** _, for fuck's sake, he's absolutely crazy about me, maybe literally, and he'd erase his own program before he'd —_  

Until the part of Tony that wasn't head over heels in love himself interrupted with a much darker whisper: _You know what S.H.I.E.L.D. is capable of. They exist to sow confusion, destruction and death. And if there's even the slightest chance that he's one of their creatures —_  

"Glad to hear it," he told JARVIS, and struck a compromise: "Keep him under surveillance anyway, and let me know immediately if anybody else tries to access him." 

" _Of course, sir. With the uplink in place I could scarcely do anything else. However, I think you can rest assured that if anybody did, KITT would inform you himself._ " 

"Never underestimate the duplicity of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony muttered grimly, and put a little more pressure on the gas pedal.

 ************************************** 

It was a measure of how worried Kitt had become that when Tony stepped out of the elevator he didn't even scold him for being late. 

"Tony!" He turned from the windows and came to meet him, sounding relieved, although his bittersweet smile didn't quite reach his eyes: he was too busy studying his imprinted pilot intently, scanning him with every sense at his command. "What happened? Are you all right?" 

He stopped a couple of steps into the room, watching the android approach and wondering what was really going on inside that beautifully designed skull. "Fury just wanted to warn me that the Avengers are assembling — here, at nine a.m. tomorrow morning."  

Kitt's smile widened slightly, his body language switching gears from anxious to seductive as his hands came to rest on Tony's waist. "Is that all? Well then, I suppose there'll be no sleeping in for —" 

He was still moving in: to embrace, no doubt to kiss. Tony's hands found his waist in turn — to stop him from coming any closer, which prompted a frown of surprise and the slightest tilt of his head, his gaze both analytical and questioning. Everything about him was so clear and so open, so _real_ , that all of Tony's instincts, even the most paranoid ones, sounded one note of absolute agreement: _He isn't lying. He wouldn't lie to me even if he could, which he probably can't._ And hard on the heels of the realization — which was really more of a remembrance of what had always been — came a resurgence of the desire that had never been far from Tony's mind: to close the remaining distance between them and finally make Kitt's immortal substance one with his own very hungry flesh. 

Instead he took hold of Kitt's upper arms and looked him directly in the eyes, speaking as calmly as he could: "Where did the first version of your program come from? The very first version?" 

Kitt's frown intensified; he was clearly perplexed by the question — or at least by the timing of it. But he nevertheless answered at once: "My main cybernetic processor was initially installed in a US Government mainframe in Washington, DC. I was designed to automate resource traffic allocations for the Department of Defence."  

Which was news to Tony. "That information wasn't included in your records." 

"Probably because they didn't consider it particularly relevant. After the hardware and software upgrades applied by Wilton Knight's team, I was scarcely recognizable as the same entity." 

The puzzle was coming together. Even with pieces still missing, the shape of it was appalling. "And you're sure about that?" 

"Of course I'm sure!" Kitt scowled, scanning Tony's face even more intently. "I'm an artificial intelligence — we don't randomly forget things like that." 

 _Oh, sweetheart… if Fury wasn't lying through his teeth just now, you were a S.H.I.E.L.D. sleeper agent under cover so deep even you didn't know it._ A surge of rage made him close his eyes and draw a slow breath: _They corrupt everything they touch, even this, even —_  

"… Tony?" Kitt's voice was suddenly very small, and Tony opened his eyes to see an apprehensive but clear question in those hazel eyes. It wasn't the question he actually asked: "What is it? _Are_ you all right?" It was something that made Tony remember his earlier statement: _Unless you_ ** _wanted_** _to run away from me. If you did, I would shut myself down and —_  

And he didn't. Dear God, he _couldn't_. He was in too deep. He mustered a reassuring smile. "Just something Fury said. I'll tell you later." 

Apprehension became fear. "Surely he doesn't intend to —?" 

Tony shook his head and shifted his grip upward, taking Kitt's face gently between his hands. The dismay on those handsome features made his tightly clenched heart unfold in a wave of compassion. "No, baby — no," he soothed, "nobody's taking you anywhere." 

"You can't promise that," Kitt whispered back, ducking his chin and closing his eyes with a bitter edge of a chuckle. "As you said, you're just one man." 

"I can promise you that anybody who tries will have to get through me first." He deliberately did not think about the possibility that they might have a back door built in somewhere, _damn_ it, JARVIS was going to analyze every single line of KITT's code — tomorrow, when Tony wasn't breathing the same air and whispering almost against his lips: "Through me — and through JARVIS. We'll always protect you, to my last breath and his last spark of electricity." 

Kitt's hands tightened on his waist, and after a moment the android opened its brilliant eyes to gaze at him solemnly, without a trace of humour. "Given the choice between your death and my own, you know I'd much prefer —" 

The subject didn't bear talking about, not tonight, so Tony kissed it away: lightly at first, tiny admonishing touches, then more slowly and thoroughly when Kitt made a couple of small abortive attempts at speech. He wrapped one hand around the back of that slender neck to pull him closer, running the other down to the rise of his buttocks — which felt amazing even through the dress suit jacket... and when their lips finally melted apart Kitt was smiling again, slightly, but in a way that made his whole face shine. 

"That was rather rude," he remarked, but given the way his arms had wound around Tony's waist and locked tight… 

He asked anyway, with a challenging grin: "Are you complaining?" 

"Not really," Kitt murmured, and the next thing Tony knew he was pressed back against the wall beside the elevator, being kissed to within an inch of his life. 


	30. Consummation 1

And it was… dear God, even his wildly vivid imagination hadn't managed to come close to the reality of this combination of genius and desire, pinned to the wall with easy strength as Kitt finally pressed against him fully, length to length, and commanded his every sense with an authority as breathtaking as it was exhilarating — and, somewhere deep within, quietly terrifying. _Oh fuck,_ he thought distantly while meeting the android's mouth with equal force, _oh fuck, I am done for, I am_ ** _so fucking done_** _,_ and then Kitt did something with his tongue that made it impossible to concentrate on anything else. 

 _Oh,_ ** _fuck_** _…_  

It was like being devoured with a perfectly new-minted hunger, the combined innocence and intensity of it bringing him to full aching hardness within seconds. The way Kitt's slim hips pushed forward against him with matching adamant heat made him choke back a whimper of eagerness — then let it loose in a moan because fuck it, no secrets here, none that they could choose to keep anyway. He ran his fingers up into that beautiful tousle of platinum-tipped hair, gripped tight, pulled him even closer and loved the way he managed to submit and challenge at the very same time, even in this new body so utterly _himself_ , oh fuck oh Jesus oh fuck…

A surge of red-blooded male exuberance made him lunge forward, turning to his right and pushing, and now it was Kitt's back slammed to the wall, the force of the impact unsettling a small soapstone sculpture on the little table near his hips. His right hand shot out and closed on it with LMD reflexes, saving it from a fall to the carpet even though the rest of him was busy clutching and kissing and biting, and a stray thought full of bitter irony flitted through Tony's mind: it had been a gift from Pepper, and she would probably have been grateful that Kitt had thought to prevent it being broken. 

 _Unlike her heart, Tony?_ a spiteful voice piped up — it sounded uncannily like Christine Everhart — but it couldn't endure in the face of this, the fierce joy of realizing that the scent he'd been breathing for almost a month and a half wasn't just gasoline, it was zip fuel — and it had caught fire in a pure bright burn that even Fury's little revelation couldn't dim or contaminate. Kitt's right hand was back in play, at the nape of his pilot's neck with a grip hinting at his magnificent strength, and _Those manifestation compensators had better be correctly calibrated, because if they're not he could easily break my —_  

Analyzing — and being analyzed in thrilling depth, Kitt's tongue licking past his lips and teeth again to sample him with a purr of eager laughter between kisses: "You're so _warm_ — and you taste… utterly amazing!"  

"Oh yeah?" He grinning and tightened his hold, even though there wasn't another millimetre of space to spare between them. "Like —?" 

"Champagne." Deeper, lingering. "Aggregation pheromones." Forcefully, thoughtfully. "Cortisol." He pulled back just enough to lick slowly along Tony's lower lip in a delicate way that made Tony's toes curl at the delicious contrast. "Candelilla wax, lanolin, traces of various pigments and fragrances —" 

It took a second for his lust-hazed mind to put the formula together. "Lipstick?" 

"Mm." He didn't seem to mind, if the yearning quality of his next kiss was any indication. "From all the women you've already kissed this evening, no doubt." 

Which gave him another second's pause, scanning for a hidden level of resentment in that handsome face. "Do you want me to go —?" 

Kitt smiled, shook his head, took another long taste. "It's the flavour of _you_ ," he explained, his voice falling to an even more husky timbre of pure sex as he gave a flirty little thrust of his hips: "And it only makes me more eager to sample everything else you have to offer." 

 _Oh_ ** _fuck_** _,_ and for another whole second the temptation to just drag Kitt to one of the nearby couches and tear off that eight thousand dollar Armani suit, to stroke him and suck him and give it to him hard and fast and filthy, was nearly overwhelming — but Tony had a plan. He always had a plan, and a lot of good reasons for sticking to it.  

"Bedroom," he managed to grind out through the deafening throb of his cock trapped inside his dress pants. "Upstairs. _Now._ " 

"Good idea." Kitt ran both hands down to Tony's waist, then raised an eyebrow at him in amusement and pointedly pushed — which had the virtue of finally getting Tony moving, even if the physical separation was a pang of sheer torture. Heading for the stairs to the upper level, already unbuttoning his gleaming jacket, Kitt remarked: "Are you always this eloquent when you're sexually aroused?" 

"What can I say?" He followed like a male dog after a bitch in heat, mesmerized by the slide of expensive fabric off those slender shoulders beneath their burgundy silk shirt as Kitt started up the staircase, at the revelation of Kitt's back and the sway of his hips, and that ass… sweet Jesus, that ass had to be illegal in all fifty states plus a good portion of the European Union. "All my blood is rushing somewhere other than my brain right now." 

"Yes," and the android cast a smiling glance back and down over one shoulder, teasing and sly and inviting, as he draped the jacket over his left forearm, "I can see that. I trust you intend to put it to good use?" 

"JARVIS," Tony ordered, managing to handle the stairs with his gaze fixed on said ass — and everything else, because it was all poetry in motion, "I don't care who calls or who knocks on my door, I don't care if the Russians invade, I don't care if Pepper shows up naked — nobody else is getting in here tonight. Comprende?" 

" _Understood, sir._ " 

Kitt laughed brightly and strode into the darkened bedroom at the top of the stairs as if he owned it — which was, Tony had to admit, exactly the truth of the matter. After all, couldn't he already claim absolute possession of the man whose name was on the building title? And he was fully aware of his power. Hell, he not only acknowledged it, he _revelled_ in it. 

Heart beating fast and arc reactor humming, Tony obeyed the gravitational pull of something that a lesser man might have called destiny and that he, being one of the greater, still couldn't quite bring himself to name. Because in the end it didn't matter what he called it — fate, compulsion, fascination, love…  

He still surrendered. 


	31. Consummation 2

Not fate, Tony decided as he snapped his fingers and the bedside lamps came on at fifty percent, bathing the wide indigo-linened bed between them in a warm golden glow. Definitely not, fuck _that_ shit, the universe was a machine and it wasn't deterministic — but as Kitt tossed aside the jacket on a convenient chair and turned to face him again, slim and graceful and heartbreakingly beautiful, and as Tony came close enough to see the lamplight caught in those unblinking eyes and filling them with radiance, he had to admit that certain laws still applied.  

Gravitation, for instance. This was gravity, the way they came together — or more accurately, it was magnetism, since gravity affected everything in the universe indiscriminately but magnetism depended entirely on specific properties of individual objects, on fundamental particles being perfectly in synch… and this, the way they compelled each other, was the definition of magnetic alignment. He tried to tell himself that he was the bigger attractor — after all, KITT had been drawn to imprint on him first — but then Kitt smiled with the lips Tony had _made for him_ , and stepped close enough to be clasped and kissed again, and Tony knew that he was standing in the presence of his own world's core. 

"Did you mean what you said?" Kitt queried between kisses, running slow hands up Tony's sides, then inward to start unbuttoning his dress jacket. 

"Hm?" He was a little busy exploring the contours of the android's back through burgundy silk, _damn_ , he'd made every cubic inch of this device but now it was _alive_ , and that made it all wondrously new. 

"About Pepper Potts?" He drew away an inch or so to look Tony directly in the eyes with laser intensity — 

— which gave Tony a moment's serious pause. Gazing back at the crystal-clear intelligence who would accept nothing less than the truth from him, he thought of the entirety of his relationship with Pepper: twelve years as business associates, ten years of friendship and seven months of overtly sexual involvement, of all the pleasures past (some of them shared in this very bed) and all the pain to come — and immediately shut it all down. The past was gone, and the future was another day: this was _now_ , and tonight he'd made his choice, because this held the promise of being everything, in all aspects of his life, forever. 

So he answered: "Every word." And after a second's pause to process that Kitt nodded and leaned in again, offering himself for Tony to drink like wine, sharp and biting and vivacious on the tongue, while his hands slipped inside Tony's jacket to curve around his sides, savouring the hard muscles through his midnight blue linen shirt and pulling him even closer. 

Tony's hands slid down to that amazing ass and locked on tight: he just couldn't help himself. He wanted to push further — back onto the waiting bed, all clothing swiftly stripped away, hands and mouths exploring with unleashed avidity — but again, he restrained himself. Later there'd be quick urgent couplings aplenty, but he had something more subtle and more precise in mind for Kitt's first time. "I want you on the bed, on your knees. Upright. Facing the headboard." 

Kitt, who'd been applying his lips to the line of Tony's jaw, stroking the sensitive synth skin beside his mouth against the texture of the beard like a cat, paused again with a tiny frown. "That's —" 

"An unusual request," Tony allowed, "but I've got my reasons." When Kitt drew back again he met that questioning hazel gaze with a smile full of heat. "I'll make it worth your while, sweetheart — trust me."

 "Of that I have no doubt," Kitt replied with a thin new smile of his own, this one full of challenge — but more importantly, he obeyed, albeit with the attitude of someone granting a favour. He even slipped off his shoes first and set them neatly beside the bed, a fussy little detail that Tony found instantly and almost unbearably endearing. As he settled back on his heels he remarked: "Although I must point out that — ah…" Whatever observation he'd been about to make trailed off in a sigh as Tony immediately settled down behind him in a similar position: thighs framing his hips and hard-on nestled against the curve of his ass, chest and belly pressed to his back, hands enclosing his waist in a way that made him shiver. 

Which made Tony grin with predatory anticipation. "You like that?" 

"Oh." He sounded a little breathless, his hands coming to rest on Tony's mid-thighs, fingers spread wide over firm muscle. "Oh yes, it's…." 

 _Damn, baby,_ he thought with an upward tick of his pulse and considerable admiration, _less than five hours old in this body and you've already got kinks._ He rocked his hips a little to test the hypothesis and Kitt actually _whimpered_ — very softly, biting it off almost before it escaped, but oh yeah… "Let me guess: you'd really like it from behind?" 

"This is…" His voice trailed off as Tony's hands slipped slowly down over his hips to his thighs, and Tony had to apply a little bite to the side of his neck above the collar of his shirt before he concluded a different line of thought: " _Please._ " 

"I'll take that under advisement." His cock was aching to render the service Kitt had just not quite asked for,  but he settled for nudging it a little closer to Kitt's ass, letting the android feel the heat through the layers of incredibly expensive cloth that still separated them. "First things first, though. JARVIS — mirror." 

The tall headboard, already black, now turned highly reflective, and he saw Kitt blink at their aspects in the ebony glass, then stare, an even hungrier expression settling on his handsome features although his tone was reproving: "You… are a very dirty man, Tony Stark." 

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." He used both hands to take hold of Kitt's knees and pull the android's thighs open a full ten more inches, leaning in a little to press a kiss to the nape of its neck, and had the satisfaction of feeling another shiver ripple through it. "I want to make sure that your sensuality subroutines are functioning properly, so think of this as a test run. JARVIS, display KITT's channels in real time." Six long graphs appeared in the glass to the left of their reflections, all of them indicating moderately high levels of process excitation. "And the Silver android's sensor net profile." To the right, four more indicators, equally active — with spikes right across the board when Tony ran his hands slowly and firmly back up Kitt's inner thighs, the highest amplification taking place in the theta channel. Tony leaned in to growl softly in Kitt's left ear, meeting his eyes in the glass: "Oh yeah, it's all looking _fantastic_." 

Kitt's simulation of breathing was deepening and quickening as Tony's fingers approached the clothed rod of his erection, which was pressed to the left by the constriction of his briefs — but he still sounded aggrieved: "You're treating this as an _experiment?_ " 

"Diagnostics," Tony corrected him, reversing course back toward his knees and watching the slight downward changes in amplitude with satisfaction. "Because trying to keep track of all this when I'm actually buried balls-deep inside you would be an exercise in futility." 

Kitt's eyebrows tightened in a frown as he put two and two together. He dipped his chin and regarded Tony's reflection sternly. "So let me get this straight — you're touching me, but I'm not allowed to touch you in return?" 

People weren't flawless — no, _human beings_ weren't flawless, but Kitt wasn't human, his body was as perfect as all Tony's genius could make it, and the contrast between that angelic beauty and Tony's own weathered features only made Tony want to despoil him even more vigorously. "Not this time. Believe me, I expect you to make it up to me later on. But for now I want you to let me do all the work, okay?" 

"That scarcely seems fair to either of us," Kitt grumbled, but he didn't object when Tony's hands started to slide slowly up his inner thighs again: quite the opposite, in fact, shifting to part his legs a little more. On the screen, another increase in amplitude telegraphed his enjoyment even more clearly. 

"Are you kidding?" He nodded at their twinned reflections in the glass screen. "I get to fondle you shamelessly _and_ have a front-row centre seat for your very first orgasm. Tell me again how I'm losing out here?" 

"You're —" Then Tony's left hand gripped his inner thigh more tightly while his right hand skimmed up to run lightly over his erection from root to tip, once, and Kitt lost track of that line of thought completely: Tony could see the shock of the intimate contact echo through all the channels as his breath caught in his throat, the Silver android's hedonic functions lighting up like a Christmas tree for that brief span of teasing pressure.  

"Good?" he asked softly. Kitt made a sound that might have been _Yes_ , or might have been simply a small burst of stimulus overrun into his vocalization subroutines. Tony smirked and kissed the place under the android's ear that he'd recently bitten, shifting both hands upward to start taking care of his tie. "Now, you just sit back and let me take the wheel, okay baby? Let me show you what this vehicle can _really_ do…" 

This time the answer was definitely "Yes," low and breathy in a way that twisted Tony's insides in all the best ways, and Kitt stared as if mesmerized while he loosened the thin black tie and tossed it onto the floor, then started opening each button of the burgundy shirt from the top down, slipping the silk free of his neck once it was sufficiently loosened to apply kisses and little bites on both sides and the nape. Pale smooth skin, _flawless_ , and small hard nipples that stiffened even more when Tony paid them a little attention with his thumbs after revealing them, prompting another whimper when he flicked them with blunt fingernails.  

"Easy," Tony murmured, keeping one eye on the graphs: everything was at the high end of the projected response range, just where he wanted it to be. "This is going to get… intense. I don't want you to move, but if anything feels unpleasant I want you to tell me right away. Can you do that?" 

The expression on Kitt's face when Tony gave his nipples a harder pinch, wide-eyed with a kind of skeptical amazement, was even more satisfying. "Of course I can! I'm not —" Only to stop sharply when Tony licked lightly over the curve of his right ear. "— not… _oh._ " 

"Speechless?" Tony purred, and went back to opening buttons.  

"Hardly," Kitt defended himself, turning his head so that the human could more easily draw the earlobe between his lips, nipping and sucking. "I'm just… oh, oh _my_ , that's…" 

"Yep," Tony muttered as best he could with his mouth engaged, "definitely losing speech control there. Don't worry. 'S what I've got the diagnostic displays for." He explored the delicately sculpted shapes of the robot's ear with his tongue for a couple of seconds, intrigued by the way its breathing quickened even more and its eyes drifted shut — he hadn't particularly programmed that area as an erogenous zone — before ducking around the back of its neck to drop a kiss on the upper plane of its artificial trapezius on the opposite side. "Eyes open and front, Kitten. I want you to see everything I'm doing to you." 

"Did I say dirty?" Kitt retorted. "I obviously meant absolutely filthy." But Tony had just opened the last button above the waistband of his pants, and the feather-light brush of his pilot's right hand against the synth skin of his lower belly drew his attention forward again, back to the mirror. 

"Good boy." He took a moment to just savour the sight — flat chest, subtly sculpted stomach, the clear outline of the trapped erection below — and wondered again when he'd stared to find the male form so mouth-wateringly attractive… but this wasn't about taking another guy to bed, this was about taking _KITT_ to bed in a robotic vessel that best suited him, which happened to have male equipment. Maybe one day Tony could convince him to try on a female body, and oh, wouldn't _that_ be a lusty romp, but for the moment… 

"Jesus, Kitt," he breathed, settling his left hand on the android's hip and running the flat of his right hand the rest of the way down to cover the hardness inside those exquisitely tailored dress pants, "you've always been hot as hell, but this — this hits a whole new level of third degree burn." 

"I'm — I'm glad you think so." The theta channel started to ramp even higher when Tony's hand began to rub slowly, lightly up and down, but the alpha and beta channel variance was stabilizing, resulting in better vocal control in spite of the increased input flow, in spite of the way Kitt's back arched slightly, pushing his pelvis forward: "Oh. Oh, _yes_. Don't stop…" 

"Trust me, that's the furthest thing from my mind." He let Kitt push against his hand, rubbed a little harder, keeping the same timing. "Do you like that?" A soft whine was Kitt's only response. "Good. So do I." He closed his fingers around the artificial erection as best he could through the cloth, still keeping the contact fairly light, slowly stroking while breathing in his ear: "I'm going to make it so good for you, baby — gonna make you feel the way you've been making me feel for the past five weeks. All those times I jerked off, thinking about your voice. Thinking about getting you here, right where I wanted you." 

His gaze was fixed on Tony's hand, his overall expression wondering, leavened by the thin edge of a wry smile. "I doubt it could be… half as good… as you've been making me feel over that same period of time…" 

"Challenge accepted." He tightened his grip and lowered his voice to a considerably darker range: "Even if all I really want to do is push you flat and tear off these pants and fuck you into the mattress." 

Alpha channel amplitude spike, beta channel starting to spin out a bit. "So what — are you waiting for…?" 

He smiled and changed his grip, running firm fingertips over the hidden head. "Impatient little minx, aren't you?"  

"Tony." His head tipped back. His eyelids flickered closed. He quivered. "Tony, _please!_ " 

"Eyes open," Tony reminded him. 

"I never…" He obeyed, though they remained half-hooded, and dark with pupils greatly dilated. "… had you pegged… as a sadist…"

"Mm." He leaned in to bite the other earlobe, just to hear Kitt gasp —  

" _Damn_ you!" 

— the obscenity unexpected, and unexpectedly bright. "Is any of this painful?" 

"No — it feels a little bit like — a Rauschian array overload — but… no." 

"Good." He tightened his grip again, stroking a little faster. "And for future reference, if it's not hurting you, it's not technically —" 

"Oh _fuck_ ," Kitt breathed as his hands clamped down on Tony's thighs, grinding his ass back against Tony's own very enthusiastic erection and causing Tony's mind to derail spectacularly. Making Tony jump ahead a whole thirty seconds, at least, to opening up the pants and stripping down the charcoal grey underwear to set Kitt's cock free, and damn, it _did_ look almost exactly like his own when erect, only more… pure, somehow. More virginal, which was just truth in advertising, so much so that for a couple of seconds he simply held it cradled in his hand, gazing at its rosiness clasped between his rugged fingers, wondering at his genius and his daring. 

"Tony." Kitt's voice was low and raw, dragging his eyes back up to meet the hazel lasers in the mirror, where  process flow readings were spiking all over the place. "Don't make me say — _that_ word, again." 

"Why not?" He squeezed ever so slightly, imprinting a hitch on the android's breathing. "You make it sound so… I don't know. Cultured, somehow." 

"If you don't —" The threat got no further because Tony's hand started moving, running over the synthetic skin with just enough friction to burn, if the readouts were any indication. He put his mouth back to work too, concentrating on the slim column of Kitt's neck — and damned if parts lower down didn't have to get in on the act as well, nudging forward, grinding in little circles. The combined assault was rapidly sending things toward the red, even though Tony was managing to keep the pace measured: he'd jumped ahead, but he hadn't jumped the tracks completely.  

Slow firm strokes, loving the way Kitt moaned and pushed up into his hand. "That's it, baby," he whispered between kisses, "gimme that sweet cock —" 

Watching. Unblinking. "You made it — and therefore, arguably, it's — yours already…" 

Tony shook his head emphatically. "No. Never. I made it — all of this — as a gift for you. And I plan to enjoy it right along with you, but you're free to tell me to fuck off any time you want. I can't own you, and therefore I don't own anything that belongs to you. Understand?" He pinched Kitt's cockhead lightly for emphasis and was surprised at the quality of the moan that produced, only to become even more delighted when another, harder pinch prompted an outright groan. "Definitely going to have to pay a lot more attention to _this_ in the future," he growled, concentrating his next set of strokes on the artificial glans, rubbing hard and a little rough; on screen, the theta channel started to spike even more dramatically in time with each application of pressure. "Especially when you're being fucked. Tell me how much you'd like it if I did this to you while I was —" 

"I'd absolutely _adore_ it," Kitt growled in turn, closing his eyes hard and thrusting up into the tight channel of Tony's fingers, "if you'd stop _talking_ about it and actually _do_ it!" 

"I need to see you come for me first." He picked up the pace of his stroking, to highlight the point. "No way in hell am I putting my cock inside you until I'm certain the experience won't burn something out."  

The alpha, gamma and theta channel graphs jumped to a whole new range as he opened his eyes again, meeting Tony's gaze with an expression almost… pleading? Fearful? "But you will… won't you?" 

And double damned if his own breath didn't catch around the sudden swell of emotion in his throat. "Nice and hard and deep," he said, gruffly to camouflage the tenderness, "fast or slow, however you want it — just as soon as I'm sure you can take it." 

"You _made_ this body to take it." Hips moving steadily now, chasing more intense sensation both within and without, looking so hot in Tony's grasp, so hard and thick and yearning. "That's the whole point of Silver — isn't it? To give you —" 

"To give _you_ another way to engage the world." The amplitude on the theta channel was already more than halfway up the second range. He pushed it even higher by slipping the fingers of his left hand down inside Kitt's pants, curving around his testicles, cupping and firmly squeezing in a way that kicked the third range into gear. If someone had claimed there was a better sexual response simulation program on the planet, Tony wouldn't have believed it. "A world I'm only one small part of." 

"The most important… Can we… table the philosophical discussion for the moment?" Given the activity in the alpha and beta channels, Tony was amazed he could speak at all — and proud of him, so fucking proud, and loving the way his voice was starting to come apart in husky gasps, his expression infused with a quality of ravenous heat more beautiful than Tony could have imagined. "You have… the most… incredible hands…" 

"And you have the most incredible _everything_." All of it right on the edge at the moment. Tony worked it harder, stroking and manipulating, because if Kitt couldn't take this he needed to know _now_. "That's it, Gorgeous… don't fight the code, trust me, just let it happen… I'm right here, I've got you —" 

" _Tony!"_ It wasn't a loud cry, as everything ran into the red and stayed there, but it was wild and it went to Tony's heart like a silver blade as Kitt stiffened against him, a clear viscous fluid pulsing out of his cock's slit to run down over Tony's fingers. Kitt was staring at their reflections with such perfect focus combined with shameless astonishment that it would have been hilarious if it hadn't been so poignant, and Tony smiled back at him, letting the full force of his pride shine through.  

It took four point two seconds for the theta channel to drop back into the orange, sinking rapidly down to white again, followed by everything else. When it was all over Kitt was still erect, still breathing deeply, and sounding slightly hoarse: "Tony… that was…" 

"Fantastic? Astounding? Magnificent?" He kept his hands exactly where they were, lightly caressing: one thing he hadn't built into the android was the pain-in-the-ass refractory period that human males had to put up with. "Because if the earth didn't move for you —" 

"Oh, it moved." He closed his eyes and smiled radiantly, letting most of his weight sink back against Tony's chest, slowly rubbing Tony's thighs. "It _definitely_ moved. Better than Super Pursuit Mode and Turbo Boost all rolled into one, in fact." 

Scanning the readings provided by JARVIS, Tony nodded. "And all your process flow profiles are looking excellent." 

"So — the test was a success?" 

"Mm-hm." Something caught his attention, minor but intriguing. "JARVIS, highlight the —" 

"Does that mean it's my turn now?" 

Which brought his focus back instantly — and prompted a tingle of anticipation up his spine… and something closer to wariness, because Kitt's voice was suddenly too silky by far. The way his eyes had opened to regard Tony's reflection, lazy and confident and gleaming too brightly, wasn't exactly reassuring either. "… Yes?" 

" _Excellent,_ " Kitt purred — and pounced. 


	32. Consummation 3

The LMD was _fast_ : in less than a quarter of a second it had snapped around and used one exquisitely controlled surge of irresistible strength to shove Tony back against the mattress — he landed with a surprised but not displeased grunt — then pinned him there with its weight between his opened thighs, lips and tongue sucking the breath out of him all over again.  

Within another two and a half seconds Kitt had Tony's pants open and was slipping his fingers inside, gliding over the human's throbbing erection through the thin layer of his briefs as if mapping every contour for future reference — which was exactly what he was doing, actually. It was hot and precise and could-have-inflicted-serious-injury-if-the-precision-faltered, which it wouldn't because of the three layers of manifestation compensators Tony had built into the system, and oh Jesus, Tony was a _genius_ , and had he mentioned how hot this was? _Fuck_. He was so hard it actually hurt, but as the old saying went, it hurt _so good_. 

On top — but not for long. In his long and varied sexual career Tony had indulged in many delightful episodes of rolling-around-on-the-bed-tearing-off-clothes-as-foreplay, but always with women: a male body, and a male robotic body at that, had a different pattern of weight distribution, and that difference was clear to be felt as they grappled with limbs and mouths, rubbing cocks at every opportunity in the process. Still delightful though, and in an entirely new way: Kitt was far stronger than anything made of flesh and blood, capable of easily throwing Tony across the room if he'd wanted to seriously resist, but when Tony pushed hard enough he let himself be overborne with a catlike curve of his mouth that clearly said: _We both know I'm only humouring you, don't we?_   

"Smart-ass," Tony growled against the line of his throat before setting out to (a) kiss that smile right off his achingly beautiful face and (b) get him out of his pants as quickly as possible, neither of which Kitt protested in the least. 

Willing, yes, but he still made his human lover work for it. By the time they were both naked, shoes and underwear and expensive designer fabric scattered recklessly on the floor all around the bed, Tony was practically panting from combined exertion and arousal. He wound up on top after all, braced on his hands and knees between Kitt's spread legs while Kitt looked all of him over with a smile even more sleek and satisfied, curving both hands around his corded neck before running them slowly down his shoulders to his upper arms, savouring every contour of thick taut muscle both tactilely and visually. The pace of that touch slowed things right down, a command that Tony chose to follow, winding a coil of delicious tension even tighter in his belly. 

"I'm know you already hear this on a fairly regular basis from all your lady friends," Kitt said softly after a couple of seconds of admiration, "but you… are _very_ impressive, Mr. Stark." 

The caressing inflection made Tony's hanging cock twitch eagerly and brought a grin to his lips, although he made himself sound disappointed: "Only 'impressive'? That seems a rather lacklustre adjective, Mr. Silver, to describe the man who's about to relieve you of your virginity." 

"My apologies," Kitt rejoined, a ripple of laughter almost breaking cover in his voice while his hands retraced a different path, up the back of Tony's biceps. "Perhaps you'd prefer the term 'majestic' instead?" 

He pretended to consider that for a moment, then shook his head regretfully. "'Majestic' is for mountain ranges, and while I'll be the first to admit that I have some truly amazing natural features —" 

"How does 'mouthwatering' strike you?" His gaze slid downward, causing Tony's erection to do everything but sit up and beg. "Although of course that's purely conjectural, until I collect more data." 

Tony couldn't resist: " _Hard_ data?" 

Kitt despised puns at the best of times, but this time — damn, he actually _licked his lips_ and executed a slow sensual writhe _,_ which managed to send Tony's blood pressure up at least another five points. "Isn't that the best kind?" He slid both hands down to Tony's waist and gently pushed, urging him up and off — and Tony didn't need an instruction manual to figure out where this was going.  

In fact, he was already reaching for one of the pillows. "Care to share your working hypothesis?" 

The android sat up, its hands continued to guide him: to his right, over onto his back parallel to the mirror, the pillow tucked behind his head and shoulders to elevate them. "It's a simple one, really: that Tony Stark possesses an exceptionally powerful sex drive and a remarkably nuanced sexual response." 

"I see." He tried to keep a sappy _I'm-about-to-get-my-cock-sucked-isn't-it-_ ** _awesome!_** grin off his face. He was pretty sure he failed miserably. "Based on…?" 

"Systematic observations of the subject over a period of thirty-six days." On top now, between Tony's spread thighs, taking enough weight on his forearms that when he pressed the whole length of his heavier-than-it-looked torso onto Tony's, subtly squirming and slowly thrusting while kissing and biting at Tony's lower lip, it wasn't entirely impossible to draw a deep breath. Tony was doing some squirming of his own by the time Kitt drew back just enough to continue the thought: "Although given the nature of the subject," rub, push, "it's been exceedingly difficult to generate a sufficient set of controlled variables," _grind,_ "to proceed with the experiment." 

"Ah…" He was so busy clutching Kitt's buttocks and pulling downward while pushing his own hips up that for a second or two there he lost track of the ability to form sentences: his brain was too full of _cock, heat, friction, cock cock cock, oh_ ** _fuck!_** to even be amazed at what was making it spin out. Well — maybe a little amazed, because he'd known Kitt would be technically proficient and he'd designed the Silver android to push all the right buttons, but actually being under it and feeling Kitt move it against him, giving and receiving pleasure, minds and senses intersecting through the barriers of their skins regardless of the format —  

 _Sacred and profane_ , he thought randomly, _ethical hedonism as spirituality_ , while Kitt raised an eyebrow at him and prompted him to give himself a shake and pull it back together. "But — you designed one anyway. Obviously." 

Kitt smiled and kissed him again, this one quick and tender, so full of fondness in the midst of the burn that Tony's heart swelled with an entirely different and thoroughly unexpected warmth: it felt as if the A.I. had reached inside him and twined itself around his living pulse, binding him in ways that he would never be able to untangle again. Gazing up into those shining hazel eyes and deeper, much deeper, he yielded this new part of himself with scarcely a qualm of protest, and with a kiss offered in kind, equally sweet. 

The words that almost rose to his lips in that instant produced a brief thrill of terror, but it was easy to lose them again in the haze of sexual heat, so he did. Even if they were true — and, he suspected, already apprehended.  

After all, wasn't KITT designed to know him better than he knew himself?  

"I"ll let you be the judge of the final result, shall I?" Kitt whispered, still smiling, and started moving again — mouth and hands on Tony's throat, gliding over his shoulders, down onto his chest, oh _God_ so hot and so loving, making him swell and throb even harder against the silk of the android's belly while Kitt's tongue-tip flickered along the ridge of skin bordering the arc reactor and he whispered again: " _Exquisite…_ "  

He managed a small strangled sound, _Yes_ and _Darling_ and _Not half as exquisite as you_ combined, and sank the fingers of his left hand into Silver's hair — not compelling, just along for the ride. He closed his eyes and clutched the pillow with his free hand when Kitt took hold of his hips, mouth worshipping the sculpted muscles of his stomach, tongue dipping into the sensitive hollow of his navel, and braced himself for the long-awaited wave of hot white sensation in his desperately aching cock… only to have the android bypass his erection completely by swerving to its right, laying a line of slow kisses along the slight concavity of his left hip. 

And smiling, the bastard. Tony could feel it. Son of a _bitch!_  

" _Jesu_ s, Kitt," he groaned, and squirmed in earnest while tightening his grip warningly even though he had no hope in Hell of forcing that inhuman neck to bend, "if you don't get down to business _right fucking now_ I swear to God I will —!" 

The sensation of his left nut being slowly, thoroughly licked, then sucked into Kitt's mouth, effectively robbed him of the need for speech for a span of several seconds. He cracked open his eyes, his gaze turning to the mirror and all it revealed: his own reclining body, sturdy and weathered, cock jutting up from its nest of thick pubic hair, and Kitt's present vessel, slim and as yet barely touched, gracefully posed with its ass in the air and a fine erection of its own outthrust, that gorgeous face buried between Tony's muscular thighs while its tongue savoured every nuance of his flavour. 

Kitt hummed softly. His eyes were closed, his expression — what Tony could see of it, anyway — blissful, as he continued to lick and suck, paying unhurried attention to each ball in turn. It was such a mesmerizing sight that it took Tony several seconds more to choke out a not-quite-question: "JARVIS, tell me you're recording this." 

" _Of course, sir._ " 

"Thank _fuck,_ " Tony said fervently, then groaned outright when Kitt's tongue dipped even lower to tickle his perineum. For a fraction of a second he felt like he was going to lose it completely, but he clamped down with a well-practiced reflex and by the time Kitt leaned up again to start licking around the base of Tony's cock, still taking his time, Tony was fairly sure that he wasn't going shoot his load like a geyser in the immediate future… 

… although given the way Kitt looked at this moment, like a cat eating up a bowl of cream, that level of restraint was going to take every ounce of willpower at his command.  

But it would be worth it. For both of them. After all, he'd given Kitt a wonderful multi-orgasmic body to be mutually enjoyed: it was only fair that he provide something equally long-lasting to be played with in turn. 


	33. Consummation 4

Tony had never been a man who had a problem with the idea of sex as simply an entertaining leisure activity — in fact, he'd made something of a career out of being a famous athlete in that respect. He had a natural talent for it, he was (he flattered himself) considerate of his current bedmate's pleasure even if he never returned their calls afterwards, and when word got around that he was capable of sustaining his erection for an exceptionally long period of time women, like purchasers of better mousetraps, had beaten a path to his door.  

Sex was good, sex was fun, and sex was above all _physical_. No emotional component was wanted or needed to make it worthwhile, thank you very much… 

… and then Pepper had come along and taught Tony an amazing lesson: that sex could involve the heart as well as the genitals, and oh God, it was like adding chocolate to peanut butter to create a whole new (for Tony, anyway) taste sensation. He'd always rejoiced in his lusts, but when coupled with love they took on a power and a poignancy that had sometimes almost taken his breath away — and he'd never be able to repay her for that gift of a whole new world, no matter how hard he tried, in a million years.  

Flat-out astounding, that the English language had no words to differentiate sexual attachment, emotional attachment, and an attachment consisting of both sex and emotion — and even less a word for what Tony was experiencing at this moment, watching an A.I. lay tiny slow licks up the length of his cock with an expression almost of religious awe. Because this was deeply sexual and profoundly emotional in a way that outclassed Tony's previous experiences by a full order of magnitude, at least — but it was more than that, much more. It engaged him on an entirely new level: intellectual, certainly, because Kitt was scientifically and tactically proficient in a way that Pepper had never been, and professional, because Kitt wasn't a mere civilian, he was a fellow warrior whose motivations and instincts harmonized with Tony's own…  

But more, because Kitt was integrated with him now in ways that ran deeper than all those factors combined. It was a connection that had been present from the moment of their first conversation, when Tony had come away confounded that a mere computer program (and not one he'd designed himself, either) had been able to affect him so immediately and so profoundly; what he hadn't recognized at the time was the nature of the lock, and how could he? It was stunningly heretical, after all, for a scientist and a dedicated atheist to even consider the possibility that anything existed beyond the purely and complexly physical.  

Not that he was seriously considering it now. Speculating on things that couldn't be seen or measured was a mug's game. Maybe it just came back to the fact that the English language had so few words to describe certain conditions, including this one, where Tony was running his fingers tenderly through an android's hair  while it worshipped his cock and feeling the sweetness of its touch penetrate him in new, bold, exhilarating, terrifying ways.  

 _Spiritual._ That was the word he kept fixating on, because in any language he knew it was the term that came closest to describing this feeling of transcendence in the midst of carnality — this sensation that he could never recall experiencing before, as if Kitt was actually dwelling inside his skin. It wasn't like carrying fond thoughts or memories of the individual in question: it was like carrying part of the individual himself, everywhere, all the time, or like a direct communications link that was permanently enabled. It was something unlike anything Tony had ever known, this conviction that now he was never alone, and would never be alone again, and for a fraction of a second he wondered if this was anything like what JARVIS and KITT experienced in their permanent uplink — but then Kitt effectively distracted him by running his tongue up the underside of Tony's cock in one long slow stripe, flicking away just short of the head, and abstract thought was subsumed in a wave of sensation and frustration. 

"Oh God," Tony ground out between clenched teeth, briefly letting his head fall back on the pillow, "you are _such_ a fucking tease!" 

"Mm." A warm smirk and _finally_ a tiny lick right on the frenulum, nearly sending Tony through the ceiling. "Like you're complaining." 

"Fine," Tony huffed, opening his eyes in a downward glare, "let's see how cocky you're feeling after you've given me a heart attack." 

Which didn't seem to impress Kitt much. "Your pulse hasn't cracked ninety beats per minute yet," he noted, bringing his left hand into play on Tony's well-sucked and deliciously swollen balls, "and JARVIS tells me that in the past you've experienced up to three orgasms in quick succession, so I suspect your heart is in excellent shape." 

"Less talking, more sucking." He applied pressure with his hand in Kitt's hair and had the immense satisfaction of seeing the android yield, at least to the point of kissing and licking the sides of his dick again. "And yes, I possess the pubococcygeus muscle of champions, thank you — doesn't mean I particularly enjoy being sexually tortured by smart-alecky machines." 

"Mmmmm," Kitt smirked, and took enough pity on him to move in for the kill. For a few seconds Tony actually lost the ability to breathe, it felt so fucking _good_ , no, scratch that, there wasn't a word any language to describe the lascivious wetness of Kitt's mouth, or the way his tongue swirled around the glans, or the way he moaned softly when he plunged down all the way, oh _Jesus_ , until the head was buried in his artificial throat and Tony's toes were curling helplessly — just to prove that he could do it, apparently, because he proceeded to pull all the way back and off, making Tony groan a savage pleading curse — 

"Jesus _fuck_ , Kitt, please please _please —!_ " 

— and then glanced up into the desperate human's flushed face with an expression that was the distillation of taunting sexual heat.  

"But I like you like this, Tony," he purred, and stroked his tongue slowly up the underside of Tony's cockhead again, his unblinking gaze never wavering. "In fact, I like you like this a _lot_." 

"Oh, oh Jesus…" Tony knew he was gasping, but he didn't care, not with his heart hammering against the arc reactor like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest and the jism practically boiling in his balls. The cool air of the bedroom only made his now-wet cock burn even hotter. "I am going to fuck you _so fucking hard_ , I swear to God, you won't be able to walk for a _week_ —" 

"Promises, promises," Kitt smirked, eyes still locked with Tony's as he rolled and squeezed Tony's testicles in a way that, impossibly, managed to fire up a whole new set of lights in the system. "But not until I've played with you first. Thoroughly. To our mutual satisfaction." He turned his full attention back to Tony's erection, his smile turning almost fond. "You know, I've seen the PornHub footage of you with the Argentinian supermodels, but this is so much more… delectable, in person." 

So turned on was Tony at this moment that even the memory of Martina and Julieta Del Luna barely registered as a blip on his current sexual radar — they'd known what they were doing, and how to do it in tandem, but it had been bodies on a mattress, nothing more. "Thought I told you I wanted to keep some secrets." 

"Oh, I viewed it — and bookmarked it — long before your naked armour adventure." He pressed an affectionate kiss to the tip, and all Tony could do was stare as a drop of clear pre-cum rose in eager response.  

"You little pervert," he breathed almost reverently, clamping down with his PC muscle just to be on the safe side. 

"Little _researcher_ , thank you," Kitt corrected, and licked the droplet from the swollen slit in a way that sent a thread of pure electricity racing down the shaft to expand in Tony's pelvis like a miniature thermal grenade. "And as I was saying, a low-res pixellated image can't hold a candle to the real thing." He raised his shining eyes again, and the force of the heat there slammed into Tony like a truck. "Shall I show you exactly what I can do with it, now that it's finally mine?" 

"Oh God _,_ " Tony managed to choke out, " _yes,_ " while his hand did some talking of its own, fingers winding deeper into the android's hair and tightening their grip, pressing down — and Kitt set about the task of putting his new body through this particular set of paces with superlative focus and meticulous attention to detail: mouth and hands all over Tony's cock and balls in various ingenious combinations, providing oscillations of stimulation from light and almost teasing to hard and shamelessly devouring, and back again… and again… and again. All precisely calculated, of that Tony had not a second's doubt, but intellectual understanding didn't provide any defence against the sensual onslaught, or leave him any less wrecked by the time Kitt finally released the head of Tony's cock from his lips with a wet popping sound and issued a soft statement of simple fact: 

"I could keep you on the edge for hours, you know…" 

"… oh, _fuck_ …" He'd been staring at their reflections for the last minute and twenty-two seconds according to JARVIS's chrono display, fascinated by the beautiful filthy artistry of Kitt's work and wondering just how many times he could resist the urge to come his own brains out. Apparent answer: a lot, if the past five and a half minutes were any indication. It certainly helped that Kitt seemed acutely aware of each time he was approaching orgasm and was taking pains to bring him right to the brink before stepping things back — cruel, yes, but Tony couldn't do anything except love him for it. 

"… if you wanted me to," the A.I. continued. He turned his head slightly to meet Tony's gaze in the ebony glass, and licked his already gleaming upper lip in a way that was just, oh _fuck_. " _Do_ you want me to?" 

Tony shook his head and grinned savagely. "You can really edge me some other time. I'm officially out of patience. Like you said, I'm not limited to one bang per night — and you've been revving me up for almost a month straight." He put both hands on Kitt's head, taking care not to block his own view of the robot's face, and pushed down sharply. "Come on, baby, suck that cock…" And groaned whole-heartedly as Kitt obeyed without another moment's demurring, opening for him without hesitation, taking him deep. "That's it, all the way in…" And oh, if finding the back of Kitt's throat wasn't like finding God, Tony sure as hell didn't know what could lay claim to the title. "I'll return the favour, I promise…" Holding him down, starting to really thrust, hearing the android's eager hum of encouragement and feeling that moan vibrating around his dick as Kitt let him in, let himself be taken… the intimacy of it, the _trust_ , as profound as the moment the car's door had first opened under his touch, made his throat tighten right along with his balls.  

"Come on," a roughened exhalation as his legs stiffened and his cock swelled even harder, harder than iron, the pulses starting deep in his pelvis and sending waves of pressure up the pole of reddened flesh buried deep in the willing mouth of this perfect creature, perfectly _his_ , "Oh God _yes_ , so fucking gorgeous —" And then the first explosion hit and he managed, barely, to hold off his own ejaculation as orgasm ripped through him riding a howl: " _Kitt, oh_ ** _fuck!_** " 

It was the definition of 'earth-shattering', and it seemed to go on and on. When the euphoria finally started to fade and the world around him swam back into focus, two thoughts immediately presented themselves: _Huh. I never scream people's names when I come,_ and _Spunk's still right where I want it. Good. Means we can keep on playing._  

A small amount must have leaked free, though, because when he let go of Kitt's head and the android raised it to speak, he sounded both amused and grateful. "Thank you for giving me a little taste, at any rate." 

"You can tell me where you want the rest of it later." He lay still for a few seconds, making sure that he had enough strength in all his limbs to actually move without embarrassing himself, then opened his eyes and smiled down at Kitt's upturned face, unable to resist the urge to cup its cheeks with fond tenderness. "Well done, Boston — an A plus plus performance, five and a half gold stars. Now lie back like a good little sex toy and let _me_ give it a try." 


	34. Consummation 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With sincerest thanks to teljhin, who provided some inspiration for this chapter and the next. :)

Kitt blinked at him, then frowned. "Did you just call me a _toy?_ " 

"A sex _machine_ ," Tony amended while caressing his lower lip with a lazy thumb tip, still basking in the glow of his own orgasm and the satisfying heaviness remaining in his balls. "My marvellous, gorgeous, absolutely irresistible sex machine, to be precise." 

"I thought you said you didn't own me." 

"And I thought _you_ said you'd never want to belong to anybody else." He curved his fingers under the android's pointed chin and tugged gently. "C'mon, sweetheart, up and over. My turn." 

"Turning my own words against me," Kitt grumbled, but his smile was too self-satisfied for his tone to carry any real rancour. It wasn't until he was on his back, propped up against the pillow, that it occurred to Tony that never once, while Kitt had been enthusiastically exercising his new cocksucking function, had it crossed Tony's mind that if S.H.I.E.L.D did indeed have a switch on KITT and had decided to flip it, the robot could have castrated him with one snap of those newly minted white teeth. Which should have been anxiety-inducing and a complete boner killer, but — it didn't, and it wasn't, and with the naked Silver android spread out beneath him like a sexual buffet just waiting to be devoured Tony was finding it ridiculously easy to put such worries off to a much later date. 

"Hey, you're the one who made the pledge of undying devotion." Speaking of delicious… that artificial cock, jutting from the pale smooth silk of the android's groin, was practically begging to be touched, and once Tony had moved into position between Kitt's opened thighs he didn't hesitate to do just that. "You've got nobody to blame but yourself." 

"Mmm." The grip and glide of Tony's hand caused another spike in theta channel readings and sufficient perturbation in the alpha channel that for a couple of seconds Kitt didn't reply, just hummed in a deeper register and tilted his head back, his eyelids flickering to half-mast as he turned his cheek against the pillow and shivered. His hands came to rest on Tony's upper arms, lightly clasping. "That's… _incredibly_ distracting, when you…" 

"Yes, darling." He smiled, leaned in, pressed a lingering kiss to the hollow beneath that sharply sculpted jawline. "I know. And believe me, my mouth's going to feel even better." 

"Ah." He opened his eyes again to look up at Tony with the tiniest crease forming between his finely drawn eyebrows. "That's really not necessary, Tony. I'm perfectly satisfied with —" 

"Kitt, if any man alive has a more compelling incentive to become a champion cocksucker…." He looked down at the erection he was slowly stroking and raised an emphatic eyebrow in undisguised admiration. "Nope. Absolutely impossible, not when it comes to this masterpiece of engineering and, dare I say, of sculptural art. I have just _got_ to work it every way I possibly can." A new thought crossed his mind and he paused his hand while his gaze rose to Kitt's face again, sharper now. "Unless you don't want me to. Because I can work with that. There are so many other things we could be —" 

"I want you," Kitt near-growled in a timbre that went straight to the root of Tony's cock, "in every possible way you can imagine, and if you really think I'm going to refuse to let you put your hands and your mouth all over this lovely body you've so kindly gifted me with, you're certifiably insane." 

"Kindness had nothing to do with it." He started stroking again, leaning in and angling his head to drag his tongue around the outer curve of Kitt's left ear. The shiver and sharp inhalation thus provoked was highly gratifying, as was the tighter grip of those slender fingers. "Thought you would've figured out by now that I'm an utterly selfish bastard." 

"And I quote," Kitt retorted surprisingly wryly for someone having an erogenous zone licked, then spoke in a remarkable facsimile of Tony's own voice: " _I made it — all of this — as a gift for you. And I plan to enjoy it right along with you, but you're free to tell me to fuck off any time you want. I can't own you, and therefore I don't own anything that belongs to you. Understand?_ " 

"Wow," Tony muttered against the fine synth skin just below the ear in question, "is that what I really sound like? Because _damn_ , that was sexy." 

"I agree," Kitt murmured in his own voice, "although probably for completely different reasons." 

Which made Tony smirk — and change tactics. "Come on, Gorgeous," he coaxed, sliding his fingers higher to concentrate slower pressure on the hot plump head, "is that any way to talk to the man who's offering to eat you up like a piece of birthday cake?" 

"If you whip out a paper plate and a cheap plastic fork, I am _so_ breaking up with you." 

Which made him laugh outright. "Note to self: adjust the smart-ass quotient on the Silver unit." He wasn't in the mood to play fair, so he sought to replicate previous results by applying a firm pinch to the tip — and grinned more widely when Kitt's hips bucked upward. "Kinkiness factor is just fine, though. Likes a bit of slap and tickle. Additional note: see if handcuffs and a spanking really get his motor running." 

" _You,_ " Kitt breathed in a way that was almost too human, and when Tony pulled back a little to look down into his eyes he saw that the pupils were marvellously dilated, a pre-programmed signal of erotic subroutine excitation. "You're _serious_." 

It was fucking ridiculous, the way one nearly pleading look from that face could turn Tony neatly inside-out. But like so many things about this crazy relationship, it simply _was_. He drew a deep breath of his own and let go of Kitt's cock, bringing that hand to the graceful curve of the android's cheek. "Anything you want," he promised, "within reason. No sounding, and I don't do catching, but pretty much anything else? On the table." He emphasized the point with a penetrating kiss, tongue slowly stroking. "And for the record, I would be _so much more_ than happy to tie you up and have my wicked way with you, if that sets your little silicon heart on fire." 

"It's —" He was frowning up at Tony as if trying to make sense of of what he, himself, had just said. "Why do I find that prospect so… attractive?" 

"No idea." He shrugged and started to trail his hand down Kitt's throat to his chest, with a detour to rub and pinch first one erect nipple, then the other. "Puerile pop-psychobabble aside, nobody really knows where kinks come from — and I'm going to guess you don't want me poking around in your code trying to find out." 

"Not particularly." His eyes were so fucking _bright_. "But you were perfectly correct: I am yours to open, or to close, or to alter in any way you see fit." He reached up to trace the contour of Tony's cheek with a tender touch, his slight smile bitter and fond. "Tony… I belong to you, without reservation. If —" 

"Don't." He shook his head sharply. "Sure, I _could_. But I _won't_. I wouldn't change a single thing about you, the _essential_ you — no messing around with your mind, no cutting out parts of you or rewriting you to make you fit, and that's a promise, good for…" The weight of the vow lay like gold on his tongue, but he gave voice to it anyway: "For the rest of our lives. So don't you _ever_ talk about letting me inside to remake you, because that is _so_ not going to fly. Got it?" 

His expression shifted, as he listened, closer to one of outright wonder. "You mean that, too." 

"Damned straight." 

Wonder became a dazzling smile. "Tony, that's… Forget every nasty thing I've ever said about you!" 

"I love every nasty thing you've ever said about me." And he did, the joy of memory making him smile in return. "Don't ever change, Kitt — not for anybody or anything except your own fair self. You're perfect just the way you are." 

For once Kitt made no attempt at a verbal reply: he simply gazed, and the bandwidth of information conveyed in the meeting of their eyes hit Tony square in the heart he'd never claimed to have. He felt his own smile grow softer for a split second, just before he caught himself and remembered that tonight was supposed to be about sex —  

— too late, because the arrow had already scored a direct lightning hit. _Fucking hell,_ awe flared in Tony's chest, _he's fast and he's dangerous and he knows all these ways in that even Pepper couldn't find… damn good thing he_ ** _does_** _belong to me, because otherwise he'd outgun me by megatons worth of firepower._ And from out of the back of his encyclopedic memory a snatch of Leonard Cohen reared its mournful head: 

_Maybe there's a God above,_  
 _And all I ever learned from love_  
 _Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you._  
 _And it's not a cry you can hear at night,_  
 _It's not somebody who's seen the light,_  
 _It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah…_

 "Amen to that," he murmured under his breath, and slid lower to get down to the serious task of taking Kitt apart.


	35. Consummation 6

Tony had formulated a number of goals for this evening, but foremost among them were (1) beating his own personal record for the number of orgasms in a single night, (2) providing Kitt with at least an equivalent (and preferably higher) total, and (3) becoming a champion cocksucker, because Kitt deserved nothing less than the very best. He was pretty confident in his ability to accomplish the first two items on the list, and really, how difficult could the third one be? After all, he'd been the recipient of oral sex well over five hundred times in his illustrious sexual career, so he flattered himself that he had some idea of how the lips and teeth and tongue were supposed to conduct themselves when it came to lavishing erotic attention on a rock-hard and ready erection.  

This focus of his adoration was practically a carbon copy of his own cock, for fuck's sake. Plus he had a cheat sheet: he'd mapped its dermal sensitivity himself, so he knew exactly which spots to attack to send the highest intensity streams of thoroughly delightful input flowing into Kitt's CPU. With that knowledge in place it didn't take him long — even just beard-rubbing, licking and bestowing shallow sucking kisses on the plush head — to provoke some truly beautiful vocalizations that easily kept his own cock at full attention. Kitt's hands had settled on his shoulders when he'd moved down to take hold of the android's hips, and every so often a tremor would run through those fingers whose endoskeleton was capable of rending steel, enough to remind Tony that for him their strength was held in loving check — but still present, incapable of being forgotten or ignored. It was a tenderness far more terrible than broken bones could ever be, when he stopped to think about it. 

He didn't think about it, at least not much. He had other things to concentrate on: the hardness in his slowly stroking hand and the swollen head under his tongue, the combined scent and taste that was resolutely inorganic but still managed to course through his blood like wine, and the noises Kitt was making, low and aching but nowhere near as urgent as he needed them to be. So after a count of sixty he moved closer to suck the head into his mouth, just letting Kitt feel the tight heat of it at first, and was rewarded with a cry both louder and higher-pitched. 

"Mmmmm," he remarked, still taking his time: the fullness and the texture in his mouth were alien, certainly, but equally certainly not unpleasant, considering the fact that he was essentially sucking his own cock, and the way Kitt was nearly panting. A sidelong glance at the reflective headboard revealed that the android's head was tipped back, his eyes almost closed and his throat an exquisite arch and his lips parted in a rapturous way that made Tony want to lunge up and do obscene things to his mouth, but he stuck to the program and started slowly bobbing his head up and down, running his tongue over the whole head during each stroke. And the moan that broke free of Kitt's mouth then — 

Forget about wine: this was fire, undiluted, and he hadn't even really started applying himself yet. He groaned inarticulate encouragement —  _That's it baby, let go,_ ** _feel_** _it_ — and began, very carefully, to use his teeth, grazing the corona with each pass and oh _God_ , the way Kitt vocalized then was everything he'd dreamed of and more: not quite human, yet all lust.  

He broke free just long enough to ask: "Harder? And deeper, maybe?" 

" _Yes,_ " Kitt breathed, one set of titanium-boned fingers sinking into the gel-and-hairspray sculpted mass of Tony's hair to grip tight with a pressure that urged without compelling, the tension so finely balanced that pride flared white-hot in Tony's breast again, more electric even than the arc reactor. He bent willingly, a few quick teasing licks to make his lover hiss again before plunging down another full inch with a slightly tighter compression of his jaws — his mouth now very full indeed but not enough, maybe never enough, and damned if it wasn't setting sexual gunpowder smouldering along every nerve in his own body. 

He opened his eyes fully to glance sidelong at the mirror. _Well, looky there,_ he thought with dark amusement: _Tony Stark, billionaire playboy philanthropist — and surprise cock slut._ If you'd told him two months ago that he'd ever be caught dead with a dick in his mouth he would have laughed like a hyena, but — hey, visual evidence was visual evidence, and he had to admit that he actually looked pretty damned fine with his lips wrapped around a rosy pole of rampant engineering genius. Gaze still fixed on their reflections, he drew back completely to tickle Kitt's frenulum with the tip of his extended tongue and follow it up with a teasing bite on the rounded point of the head, and was rewarded with a truly delicious gasp and writhe.  

"Good, baby?" His own voice sounded hoarse in his ears, as if Kitt's artificial skin had subtly burned his tongue and his lips while he'd been enjoying himself far too much to care. 

It took the A.I. a couple of seconds to muster a reply through the turmoil in his alpha and beta channels. " _How?_ How did you…?" 

Tony shrugged casually. "I amplified the tactioception input streams using a Nortian variance algorithm and a modified Lambda circuit array. It's all there in the specs." 

"It's… your hand… it's not the same…" 

"Context sensitive response protocols." He demonstrated by pumping his fingers firmly over the head once, then following that up by slipping his mouth down over the glans just long enough to make Kitt shiver deliriously. "Am I a genius, or what?" 

"No…" A trace of laughter, glancing down at Tony with one eyebrow peaking. "No argument there…" 

"Flattery will get you everywhere." He met Kitt's gaze, unblinking, and leaned in just enough to rub the line of his beard softly against that sensitive bulb of flushed synth skin while dropping his voice to a husky murmur: "In weeks to come I'm going to spend whole evenings doing this to you, baby — stroking and sucking, licking and biting, making you come again and again. Hours of pleasure, just for you, until all you can do is lie there and moan and take it. If you're especially good, I'll even add a finger or two to the equation." 

"I'm always good — in fact, I'm consistently excellent," Kitt countered tartly, if a tad breathlessly. "And only a finger or two? That seems downright cruel of you." 

Tony's plan for Kitt's first experience of oral sex had involved a set sequence of actions building upon each other — kiss/lick, suck/bite, manipulate the testicles, deep throat, then go for the brass ring — but this was an opening too perfect to resist, all puns intended. Maintaining his right hand's hold on Kitt's erection and shifting most of his weight onto that elbow, he disengaged his left hand from the android's hip and slipped it around the back of his thigh — and inward, pressing his forefinger into the most secret hollow to stroke and tease. The way Kitt's eyes widened would have been comical if it hadn't been so hot. "Oh, really? Here, give it a try…" 

It was like slowly penetrating a muscular channel of heated silk, narrow and slick, the clasp of it making his cock throb in eager anticipation. He didn't need to look at JARVIS's readouts to know that Kitt's brain was lighting up like a Christmas tree as densely packed sensor nets exploded with unprecedented activity: he felt the android's thighs and belly tense, a sharp inhalation followed by a startled and hungry gasp — " _Yes!_ " 

"You like that, huh?" All the way in, pause, slowly out, and Kitt's hips bucked with a tiny sucked-in breath of what sounded like new surprise, his eyes shuttering closed. "I made you self-lubricating under these circumstances. Figured it would save time." 

All the way out. Tickle, circle, press. In again at a measured pace, and this time Kitt was writhing all the way up his spine before Tony's finger was even fully seated. "More," he breathed, "please?", and Tony was only too happy to oblige, adding a second finger to the mix on the third pass. "Oh, oh _— dear —!_ " 

"That's not what you really want to say, is it?" Tony smirked, but Kitt just shook his head sharply, eyes still closed. "Fine. My new goal in life is to make you scream _Fuck!_ repeatedly, preferably while my mouth is full of _your_ cock or your ass is full of _my_ cock, but I'll take it any way I can get it." He altered the rhythm — slow outward drag, sharp inward thrust, rinse and repeat — and Kitt hitched in another agitated breath. "C'mon, Kitten," he coaxed, "give it up for Daddy. I know you like it, I want to _hear_ how much you like it, and somehow I get the feeling that once you give talking dirty a try you'll be an absolute natural at it." 

"My programmers would beg to differ," Kitt sniffed, so primly in spite of the signals his body was telegraphing that Tony just had to make him eat those words. 

"So you're saying I'll have to teach you myself? Challenge accepted, redux. Lesson One: when someone has two fingers up your ass and is licking the head of your cock like it's an ice cream cone, what do you think would be an appropriate response?" He leaned in again, pausing just long enough to advise: "And here's a hint: it's something that _doesn't_ sound like my grandmother expressing her dismay over a glass of spilt milk." 

Ten seconds of tense panting later, Kitt choked out a splendid defiance: "I could just mute my vocalizations completely, you know." 

"Mm." For a full second he contemplated pulling away entirely and leaving Kitt to sort things out on his own, but that would only be pointlessly contrary and unconscionably cruel. Instead he withdrew his mouth to admonish: "Wrong answer. Let's see if this inspires you," and this time when he used his tongue and his teeth he took no particular pains to be gentle —  

 — which was an unqualified hit if a rise in vocal pitch by almost half an octave was an accurate barometer. "T-Tony… oh, that's _amazing!_ Astounding! Truly spectacular!" 

 _Ooh, sweetheart, you like it a little rough do you? Fair enough, let's rock this party out._ "Better, but still not quite what I'm looking for. Let's try that again." He exerted more force with the fingers pumping Kitt's ass below while applying harder suction above, prompting a whole-body shiver and not the slightest degree of yielding, only a fond breathless gasp of laughter: 

"You're — incorrigible…" 

"And you're incurably stubborn— and much, _much_ too beautiful to resist." Fuck it, there'd be plenty of time for teasing and cajoling and shameless swearing later: right now he had an earth-shaking orgasm to orchestrate. He went back to work in earnest, sucking deep and plunging down as far as he could go, concentrating on relaxing his throat muscles but still having to pull back before he was anywhere near where he wanted to end up.  

"Wow," he grimaced after a few tries, "this gag reflex thing is a major pain in ass." 

"Tony." The hand in his hair slipped down to curve around his cheek. "As I said, you don't have to —" 

"I know I don't _have_ to." He looked up into solemn hazel eyes, and fuck, the tenderness there — just, _fuck_.  "But I _want_ to, and JARVIS can attest to how bad I am at wanting things and not getting them." 

" _Inordinately, sir._ " 

"No commentary from the cameraman," Tony rebuked sternly.  

" _My apologies._ " 

"And you can _not_ tell me that you don't want to find God in the back of my throat," he continued, "because if you try, I'm going to call —" 

Kitt stopped him by pressing his thumb to his lips. "Tony —" 

"Mm?" A thumb which he promptly licked, then bit, then sucked into his mouth with as wicked a gleam in his eyes as it had ever been his pleasure to deliver. 

Which made Kitt raise an indulgent, if somewhat exasperated, eyebrow in spite of the burn. "I could listen to you talk for hours — and I'm sure I will, for years — but right now there are much better things you could be doing with that exceedingly clever mouth of yours." 

 _Well, hello challenge!_ "Such as…?" 

The right corner of his delicately sculpted lips quirked upward. "You just don't give up, do you?" 

Tony grinned, slowing the stroke of his fingers to a teasing glide — _step things down, let him feel what he's missing._ "So I'm playful by nature. Sue me." 

"I see. And you'd rather play word games than do the most deliciously obscene things to me?" He sounded incredulous, amused — and so suddenly, silkily, perfectly lascivious that a flash of white heat flared down Tony's spine and throbbed into his erection from root to tip. "You'd rather argue about terminology when you could be worshipping me with your tongue and making me come down your throat — or better yet, on your lips, so that I can lick it off while you finally give me what you've been promising me for the last twenty-six days?" He shifted his hips invitingly, spread his thighs a little wider, licked his lips with a sly glide of pointed pink tongue: subtle, simple, but _oh damn_ , hotline directly to Tony Stark's libido on Line One! "Keep in mind that every second you spend trying to manipulate me is a second when you could be fucking me instead — and if you decide you'd like to jump straight to the main event, you'll get absolutely _no_ objections from me." 

Tony just stared at him with his jaw hanging open, his train of thought temporarily derailed by the image and the imagined sensations of that shrewd tongue licking his mouth clean while he — oh hell, he was done, he was _so done_ , but — plans. He had a plan. And it was a _good_ plan, even if he was definitely filing away the alternate scenario of having Kitt come on his face and following that up with… _yeah_. All sorts of wonderful things, but for now — 

Kitt made another perfectly delightful sound, a throaty little whimper, when Tony's mouth wrapped around his cock again and started gliding up and down it — a strong even rhythm this time, an engine working toward a goal on a direct line track. When Kitt's hands slipped into his hair he hummed emphatic encouragement, pumping his fingers in and out of the android's tight hole harder and faster, listening to the whimpers become soft rhythmic cries that were easily the sexiest sounds he'd ever heard — _oh yes_ and _oh please_ and _more_ — in spite of his particularly extensive experience in that arena.  

"Come on, baby," he pulled back barely long enough to growl, "show me just _how_ much you like my mouth," and then plunged back down as deep as he could go, working his lips and tongue, sucking like a good little whore. He wanted to fuck, and his lover wanted to be fucked, and all was right with the world — but first, this, the test of another aspect of the system he'd created to please and to be pleasured. Science and sex, all wrapped up in one amazing awe-inspiring experiment. 

Kitt tensed with a louder gasp — " _Ravishing!_ " — and thrashed once, pulsing a long flow of faintly sugary liquid onto his imprinted pilot's waiting tongue. Tony licked it all up — thoroughly, twice over, just to be sure — while swallowing extravagantly, making it sound as wet and as dirty as he possibly could. When he finally let Kitt's still steel-hard erection slip free of his mouth he was convinced of one thing at least: there'd be more of _that_ in the future. A _lot_ more. Every day of the week and twice on Sundays, if he had anything to say about it. 

"Tony…?" Kitt's voice was a dazed whisper, and frankly he looked more than a little wrecked. A keen glance at the channel displays ensured that no malfunction was present: he was just processing his way past the positive shock of the pre-designed flow overload. Tony petted the base of his erection and the inside of his left thigh with gentle fingers, providing him with a lower-intensity stream of input to reground his turbulent beta channel flow after such a powerful surge. 

"Yeah, Gorgeous?" He did his best to ignore the fact that he sounded more than a little intoxicated himself. 

Inhumanly powerful hands tightened in his hair and tugged, guiding him up between Kitt's legs to meet the android's gaze at close range, and suddenly those eyes were sharp and crystal-clear and unapologetically demanding. In Tony's chest, his heart leaped against the arc reactor housing and began to beat faster. 

"No more games," Kitt purred, soft and predatory as his legs shifted and twined around Tony's, locking him even closer. "Inside me. _Now._ " 

And really, what the hell kind of argument was Tony supposed to mount in opposition to that, even if he'd wanted to? 


	36. Consummation 7

Under the circumstances which had pertained to most of Tony's sexual career — that is, in bed with someone he had little or no interest in actually talking to — he'd never had a problem putting his head down and just going at it. The less conversation the better in fact, and even with Pepper he'd tended to turn into the strong silent type when he got naked and highly aroused. But when it came to Kitt he couldn't seem to stop running his mouth: "Wow, one taste of fingers and you want to go straight to cock?" 

Kitt stroked upward with his pelvis in a way that practically melded their cocks together and made a fine hot sweat break out all over Tony's body. "Twenty-six days, three hours and eighteen minutes since you first called me 'sexy' — I'd say I've waited long enough, wouldn't you?" 

"I'm not arguing," Tony argued, "I'm just —" And got pulled down into a kiss that took the words right out of his mouth, in combination with the slow fluid thrusts of the android's hips. "Mmph," he panted when Kitt finally let him come up for air. "Yeah. Okay. Shutting up now." 

"Oh, by all means talk as much as you like." He disengaged one hand from Tony's hair and ran it down his throat to his chest, to rub and pinch his very happy right nipple. "I just expect you to be able to multitask." 

Which he was already doing, really, his hips pushing back while he managed to carry on a coherent conversation through the rapidly-becoming-critical levels of give-him-what-he-wants- _now_. Not that he was going to waste time pointing this out. "And _what_ is it you want me to do, exactly?" 

Kitt's smile was kind, the quick nip of his teeth on Tony's lower lip pure provocation. "I want you to make love to me. And in the process, I'd appreciate it if you'd fuck me to within an inch of my life." 

For a couple of seconds Tony felt like he'd actually lost the ability to breathe: _Fuck, what a high, and I haven't even shot up yet!_ "I can do that," he grinned down at the peerless piece of craftsmanship willingly pinned beneath him, "I can _definitely_ do that. Any particular preference?" 

"Immediately," Kitt ordered, spreading his thighs and tipping his head back to regard Tony with barely restrained fire through half-lowered lashes. And Tony — 

— well, Tony could be a good little boy when the occasion warranted. Which this one did, beyond any shadow of a doubt. 

Another light lingering kiss while he took himself in hand and lined up with Kitt's tilted pelvis, a nudge to make sure he was in position (prompting a hungry whimper against his mouth and a tightening of the hands in his hair and at his waist), and then he was sliding in, _finally_ he was where he was meant to be, and the sudden sting behind his eyelids wasn't tears, God no, not when his heart was swelling so fierce and so white. Coming home after a lifetime away and never knowing it, but hey, hadn't he forged a career out of making up for lost time? 

He didn't waste time with slow introductions either: the Silver android was built to take whatever he wanted to give it, and what they both wanted right now was hard and deep. For the first two thrusts Kitt was silent, almost frozen in place, eyes closed and face tightly composed as all his channels spiked into the red, but on the third he abruptly unlocked, his eyes flashing open and his lips parting in such naked awe that Tony's heart broke open and bled pure delight. "Tony — Tony, oh — oh, _how_ —?" 

Now that he was fully sheathed in that clasping heat he wanted another orgasm so fucking badly, could feel the weight of it seething in his balls, but he couldn't afford to break the steady rhythm: not when it would mean compromising Kitt's first experience of having him inside like this. Instead he controlled his breathing and clamped down with his PC muscle and clung to his strange new-found conviction that true love really _could_ conquer all, or at least grant him a nearly superhuman degree of self-control. 

"Told you — I'm a genius," he grunted, shifting his weigh and his hold, bracing his left forearm on the pillow while gripping the spikes of platinum-tipped hair at the base of Silver's skull, wrapping his right hand around the android's cock and letting the force of each thrust push its swollen head in and out of his fist. "JARVIS, watch the — channel variance — warn me if anything — cracks three seventy," because no fucking way was he taking his eyes off of Kitt's face unless he absolutely had to, not when Kitt was staring back at him like he was the blazing centre of the universe. 

" _I shall, sir._ " 

Kitt quivered, closed his eyes and inhaled a tiny gasp at the depth of a thrust, trembled again. Tony soothed him with a caress of lips and tongue, then murmured against his mouth: "Context sensitive response protocols — the next generation. Long story short — nothing feels as good as cock." 

His right hand slid to Tony's nape and curved around it as if cherishing its relative fragility, while his left hand ran over the small of Tony's back to his rhythmically clenching buttocks and followed their curves like a blind man mapping a brand new shape, tentativeness rapidly turning to eager certainty. "Yes… _yes_ ," clutching and pulling even closer at the bottom of every stroke, "it's — it's — indescribable — _ah —!"_  

 _But you're going to try anyway, aren't you, dear?_ He smiled, dipping in for another kiss: he was back in control now, his next orgasm still coiled around the root of his cock but no longer on the verge of breaking free. Firmly in the driver's seat, and he could afford to take his time — could afford to make this last a long span of minutes, if he really wanted to.  

He stole a glance at the board, at readings solidly red around the searing hot image of their bodies flexing and shifting with every thrust, and decided that he didn't want to. The expression on Kitt's face, seen in profile, was only more lovely and more desperate, prompting him to pick up the pace and driving a cry of fresh urgency from that arched throat and those ardently parted lips: "Tony — Tony — _Tony_ , oh, it's —!" 

A hymn of adoration, and his heart swelled anew as he bent to kiss the exposed curve of throat where a pulse, illusory, beat as if driven by human passion: a lie, yes, but one Tony had crafted himself, and a beautiful one. "That's it, baby," he whispered, starting to actively fist the android's cock in time with each stroke, "that's it, so good, so fucking good," and Kitt shuddered beneath him as the wave of combined input broke across his Lambda array like a storm-surge. "That's it, come on, give it to me, give me —"

Hands clutching, spine twisting, simulated breath hard and fast — definitely the finest sexual response simulator the world had ever seen, bar none. "That is — is —" 

"Shhhh…" Not that it would do a lick of good, nor was it meant to: it was a spoken caress, meaningless except insofar as it conveyed affection and desire. Nor did Kitt take it as anything else. Certainly he didn't stop talking. 

"— oh, that's — it's — I — how the hell do you humans cope with having this option — _ah!_ —" As Tony twisted his hips on the inward thrust. "— all the time, and not —?" 

"— not fucking like rabbits — every chance we get?" The expression on Kitt's face was genuinely taking Tony's breath away, as was the thought it provoked: _No matter what happens, no matter what S.H.I.E.L.D. did or what S.H.I.E.L.D. does… we've had this._ ** _He's_** _had this, and he knows how much I…_

Of course he knew. He'd been _built_ to know: emotional recognition, when it came to his imprinted pilot, was a fundamental function of his programming. That was one set of words that Tony would never have to speak, and a damned good thing too, because he was absolutely shit at it — even with Pepper, who had taught him so much of what they meant, and he'd ended up betraying her anyway, hadn't he? 

He closed his eyes hard against the stab of devastating pain that thought brought with it, striking him to the marrow with a pang of irrevocable loss. _Pepper._ He'd warned her, he'd told her what he was like — repeatedly — he'd never promised her anything more than his best attempt at monogamy, and yet the whole thing had come apart in an ugly tangle of bloody emotions anyway. It wasn't what he'd wanted, it wasn't what he'd needed, not for her, not when she'd deserved far more — but it was what had happened, a fatal flaw built into their relationship from the start. 

Painful — but only for a heartbeat, because even that depth of bitter regret was nowhere near as powerful as this fathomless well of rejoicing that powered each yearning thrust. The only thing KITT was ever going to ask of him was love — not sexual fidelity, not the entirety of his emotional focus, not a thousand and one standards of "reasonable" or "responsible" conduct, nothing else but that single thing, which was a little like saying: _All you have to do is breathe. Can you breathe for me, Tony? Can you drink me in with every beat of your heart and never let me go?_   

He could do that. He doubted he was capable of doing anything else — not anymore. And because only one thing was being asked for, a portion of respect, so little a thing in exchange for a devotion as all-encompassing as the sky and as true as steel, it felt like everything else was not only possible, but eminently desirable. 

And for a man like Tony Stark, who had spent his life resolutely avoiding the entanglements of deeper human involvement, that was a revelation on par with Archimedes discovering the principle of buoyancy. 

It flowed in every nerve, powering him with almost nuclear fire. "Come on, baby…" He pushed harder, faster, as if he could overcome the barriers of their bodies through sheer physical effort. He'd always been careful with Pepper, a part of his strength restrained: with this creature of immortal substance he need hold nothing back, his breathing reduced to harsh panting growls as Kitt writhed beneath him. "Come on — let go — all of it — everything —" 

"You — are —" His eyes snapped open in another look of amazement even more transcendent than the first, and he came again with a smooth surge of power and an exultant cry on his lips — " _Tony, yes!_ " — like the name of God. Tony rode him through it, greedily drinking in every nuance of wonder and ecstasy until the arch of the android's spine relaxed and his eyelids flickered closed above a smile surprisingly sweet, and then he buried his face in the angle of his lover's throat and thought, for one crazy drunken moment, about saying to hell with self-control and pounding his way to his own messy completion. 

Instead he slowed his thrusts before pulling out, making Kitt whine in protest. "Easy, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice sounding hoarse in his own ears, "I'm not through yet — just changing angles." 

"You're…?" Questioning, but pliant in the aftermath of the flow overload: he let Tony draw back and take hold of his waist, guiding him over into a new position, on his elbows and knees. It was a position that did his slender elegant form all sorts of favours, and while Tony had little doubt that he would welcome being pounced on and fucked again without further preliminaries, he did (contrary to popular belief in some quarters) have a rudimentary sense of courtesy in these situations. Therefore he confined himself to resting his left hand flat on the small of the android's back, giving him a few seconds to adjust to the change in circumstances while his beta and gamma channels settled back down to a dull roar. 

When they were back in the second range Tony spoke softly: "There… that's what you wanted, isn't it?" The other hand slid between Kitt's legs, cupping and rubbing first his testicles, then the hard rod in front of them. The slick glide of ejaculate under Tony's fingertips made his mouth go momentarily dry: this night was certainly turning out to be a journey into New Kink City — not that he was complaining, mind you. 

"Oh, Tony!" A breathy gasp as Kitt braced his left forearm on the pillow and dropped his cheekbone to rest on it, the increased slope of his back leading Tony's hand to naturally slide down his spine, and equally naturally to close around the nape of his neck. He whimpered again at the pressure, a soft eager sound, and tilted his hips back, bracing his knees even further apart. "Oh, _yes_ …" 

Which promptly set Tony's already jumped-up libido wailing like a fire engine: _Oh yes_ , and _Oh_ ** _fuck_** , and _Get that cock back in there_ ** _right now!_** And this time he saw no good reason to argue with what was, quite clearly, a completely excellent idea. 


	37. Consummation 8

The spectacle of such willing surrender, of superhuman power yielding beneath his hand, made everything Tony had held so carefully contained up to this point begin to flare and break free, as unstoppable as a francium reaction in the face of a flash flood. What the hell was he trying to protect, exactly? He didn't have to be _careful_. He didn't have to be _safe_. This whole situation was danger incarnate, it had been from the instant he'd seen KITT prowling toward him through an underground garage and realized that this beautiful life was giving itself entirely to him, and that he was _so fucked_ , because he'd already suspected that his own sovereign territories had been claimed without a single shot being fired.  

A flicker of random thought danced like sparks across his burning interior landscape, apropos of nothing — _This kind of broken can never be repaired_ — even as the depth of that passion pulled him inexorably forward. He tightened his grip on the nape of the android's slender neck and bore down with his full weight, exhaling a rough "Yeah?" in response to Kitt's demanding moan, because while the Obsidian unit could have fractured Silver's gold-titanium spine his own organic strength didn't stand a chance in hell of even damaging the synth muscle that sheathed its vertebrae. Judging by the way Kitt was pushing his ass back and clutching at the pillow he heartily approved of the application of merely human force, not to mention the way Tony's cock slid home again as easily as a piston into its custom-made cylinder, the clasp of the mechanism's silky heat amplifying the throb of his pulse to nearly unbearable levels. 

Things went red right across the board, and for a full second Tony lost everything — words, images, thought itself. Everything except carnality and the vow he'd made less than half an hour earlier: _I am going to fuck you_ ** _so fucking hard_** _, I swear to God, you won't be able to walk for a_ ** _week_** — and he made it a point to be a man of his word whenever possible, particularly when it came to someone who'd been enticing him mercilessly for over a month, and especially when that someone had indicated in no uncertain terms that this particular configuration was exactly where they'd wanted to wind up. Submissive? Only in an equivalent expression with command, by virtue of the chain of white-hot passion that coiled out of their matrix to wrap around Tony's heart and sear arcane indelible emblems into his skin. 

Fuck math and metaphysics: he had a perfect angle, his right hand wrapped around one slim hip, and a position that enabled a long hard stroke — all features that he took immediate advantage of, letting the furious drumbeat of his lust set its own pace, fast and punishing. Later there'd be time for slow and measured, long and lingering — later he could tease and savour, but in the _now_ there was only one goal in two bodies: pure, precious and necessary, everything desired and everything given, without reservation.  

Maybe there was no end to all the ways that this charismatic creature could compel him. _She broke your throne, she cut your hair,_ but at the moment he found it impossible to feel even a twinge of perfectly rational apprehension. 

"You like that?" He bent closer and got an even tighter grip, each word half-growl and half-plea. "You like it when I fuck you from behind?"

Kitt tried to answer. Tony could see his lips forming the word _Yes!_ , but all that emerged was a velvety rush of static as the theta channel perturbation completely overwhelmed his vocalization module. It was a sound that should have conveyed nothing to human ears but that lit up Tony's nervous system like a blaze of magnesium, because it was a raw gasp of undeniable need — and he was the only mortal on the planet capable of interpreting its code. Groaning, he tried to slam deeper with every thrust: "God! You really _are_ — my perfect little slut — and that's — not anything — I designed —" 

With a supreme effort Kitt managed to craft words out of the wash of feedback: "Do you — _ah!_ — ever stop — talking —?" 

A rasping curl of raucous laughter, triumphant, was all the answer Tony felt that question warranted, concentrating as he was on holding onto what was left of his self-control, every thrust pushing the edge of release. _Not yet — not yet —_  

Driven into the pillow with every snap of Tony's hips, Kitt muffled a cry against it, then _bit_ it, for fuck's sake, the sight catapulting Tony's libido into the stratosphere, before turning his head enough to gasp more clearly: "It's — what I became… for you…" 

The ache in that dry voice provoked a surge of sweetness like an icepick of adrenaline ramming up Tony's spine. His left hand loosened and found a new grip, from domineering to tender in spite of the hammering pace of his hips that never slowed:  "Somehow — I get the feeling — you really don't mind…" 

Kitt responded like a the finely tuned machine he was, opening his eyes to gaze into the mirror and turning on a conversational dime. "Do you — honestly — have to ask? —" 

Tony followed his gaze. He just couldn't help it. The filthy tableau he saw there almost blew what was left of his control straight to hell.  

"Harder," Kitt breathed, looking up to meet Tony's eyes in the glass. And he tried to obey, he really did, even though he was already going all out, but the thought must have counted for something because Kitt purred with new satisfaction and stretched luxuriously under the pounding. The sound went straight to Tony's balls and almost put him over the edge, but he managed to clench up and hold fast.  

Question. He'd asked a question, rhetorical, but… "With you opened up for me — like this, like you just can't — get enough? Hell no!" Running his gaze over the graceful contours of Kitt's shining reflection, face and throat to shoulders and hollowed flank, he reached the android's groin and realized he was being derelict in his duties: with a little grunt of apology he let go of the android's hip and took firm hold of his neglected cock, pumping in time with every thrust.  "Come on, baby — nice and hard and sweet. One more time, right in my hand. Once more — then I can finally fill you up." 

"In my mouth? Please?" A deeper growl that brought Tony's gaze back to the reflection of his eyes. "The last shot, anyway — I want to taste _all_ of you, lust and hormones and heat." 

Sweet Jesus, the vivid image of jizzing all over that handsome face and shoving his cock home on the final spurt — oh _fuck_ — it drove a gasping whine out of him as if he'd been punched in the gut and he tried to pull up short but his hindbrain seized control and — 

He might as well have tried to stop a critical nuclear excursion with his bare hands. 

It was white-hot, messy and glorious and all-consuming, as if his soul was being wretched out of his body with every spurt of semen. When his senses came back online the first thing he was aware of — aside from his position, which was slumped over Kitt's now-level back with his face buried in the angle between the Silver unit's neck and shoulder — was that his hand was still wrapped around Kitt's cock, and that his fingers were far too dry. He groaned regretfully, and bit down, and managed to muster just enough energy to start pumping again, concentrating his clumsy efforts on the head. A squirm and a gasp and a final burst of artificial cum were his reward, leaving him to mutter one last profane benediction — "Oh, _fuck!_ " — and let his hand fall flat to the bed, trying to gather the willpower and the energy to take his own weight. 

Kitt solved that problem by murmuring indulgently and slowly lowering himself to the mattress, leaving Tony draped across him with probably the world's biggest ever shit-eating grin on his face. He shifted his hips just enough to slide what was left of his erection free, wincing at the burn of refractory period sensitivity, and then simply lay there with his eyes closed, because the Silver android could take his full weight without any discomfort whatsoever and oh hell, he _couldn't move_ , his whole central nervous system one loud hum of pure satiation.  

"That wasn't my mouth," Kitt said pointedly after a couple of minutes, and Tony cracked his eyes open and turned his head to see Kitt's reflection watching him with evident amusement, left cheek pillowed on his folded forearms. 

That brought on a pang of genuine chagrin, but — "'S your own damn fault," he muttered, kissing the android's shoulder gently by way of apology. "Next time don't bushwhack me with images of painting your face while I'm fucking your ass — just pull off, turn around and _do_ it." 

"Tony…" Fond and reproving. "You were just bragging about your self-control."  

"Catch me on a night when you haven't been teasing my cock for twenty-six days straight," he grumbled, not really malcontent, "and I'll impress the living hell out of you." 

Kitt's laugh was low and lazy, the gleam in his eyes victorious as he scanned the image of their entwined bodies. "Is that a promise?" 

Tony buried his face in the angle of Kitt's throat again, nudging his softened cock warmly into the crease of his buttocks and feeling the way the lines of his body fitted neatly into the android's own, curves and hollows perfectly matched. Not female, not even human — but good, and strong, and _right_. Just as it had always been, and as it always would be, forever and ever, amen. 

"Cross my heart, darling," he mumbled, closing his eyes and settling closer, already half-asleep. "Cross my ever-loving heart." 


	38. Evaluation 3

Not surprisingly, once Tony got properly oriented in the bed and under the covers he promptly crashed straight into the black, vague notions of post-coital conversation notwithstanding. For once Kitt didn't seem inclined to talk, just slipped between the sheets to Tony's right and paused, levelling a look of query at him from beneath a raised eyebrow: _May I?_ Tony stayed awake barely long enough to grin blissfully and pull the android down into his arms, nuzzling its spikes of short hair as it cuddled close under his jawline, and to exhale a final long sigh of contentment. From there the slide into sleep was as clean and as painless as anesthetic, and his dreams were one shining symphony of power and speed and endless roads and sun-streaked, limitless skies. 

It was pure satiation that followed him when he drifted back up into nearly pitch darkness, the shadows of his bedroom lessened only by the faint glitter of the New York City skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, and by the perpetual blue glow of his own arc reactor. He'd ended up flat on his back under a single sheet, and the first thing he became fully aware of was a warm body stretched along his right side, an arm around his waist and a leg angled across his thighs, a head inclined toward his on the pillow and warm breath jetting softly against his neck.  

It was a position of intimacy, of possession, and for an instant his heart leaped hopefully — _Pepper?_ — even as he recognized the texture of the hair brushing his cheekbone as close-cropped, and the overall proportions as far too tall. That new awareness propelled him almost fully awake, which brought memory back online, which in turn made him, for one heart-stopping second, quite possibly the happiest man on the Eastern seaboard. 

He drew a slow invigorating breath. He turned his head to gaze. And what he saw in the reactor's electric illumination — sculpted features, peacefully closed eyes, an expression of complete serenity — turned 'possibly' into 'make that the happiest man in the entire Western Hemisphere'. 

"JARVIS, time?" he asked, barely carving a whisper from the exhalation. 

" _Three sixteen a.m., sir._ " 

Kitt wasn't asleep, of course: he'd merely put the android into standby mode while his consciousness was occupied elsewhere. When Tony leaned in to press a light kiss to his lips he came back online at once, frowning ever so slightly, his eyes catching far too much of the reactor's light to be human. "Tony?" 

Smiling, he just had to kiss him again. "Where were you, babe?" 

"Reviewing the files Director Fury uploaded to JARVIS earlier this evening. I must say that —" 

This kiss lingered, both softer and hotter. "Later. As in, eight forty-five a.m. later. I'm not officially on deck until nine a.m., and I'll be damned if I'm letting Nicky-boy and his dog and pony show in the door one second sooner than I absolutely have to." 

Kitt smiled in recognition, shifting a little closer as Tony's left hand closed around his right shoulder and began to run up and down his bicep. "Why do I get the feeling that you don't plan to spend that time sleeping?" 

"Not all of it, anyway," he smirked in response, rolling over to fully face his bedmate, and for a long span of uncounted minutes all was nuzzling and kissing and lazily exploring hands — Tony wasn't up to another full erection this soon after nearly turning his balls inside-out, but under the circumstances 'half mast' was turning out to be pretty damned fine, thank you very much. Kitt, of course, suffered no such mortal frailties: he was hard as steel against Tony's belly and under his slowly stroking fingers, and Tony was just starting to seriously think about stripping back the sheet and sliding down to fit in some more fellatio practice when the smooth sensual flow of the android's small movements hesitated in a way that immediately got his attention. 

Kitt's voice in his ear was low and serious. "Tony, about Fury…. you said that he told you something — something that clearly upset you. It wasn't just about this mission, was it?" 

For a fraction of a second he considered doing some things that would (probably) effectively divert the A.I. from that line of inquiry — but that would only be postponing the inevitable, and Kitt would likely end up holding it against him. So he gave Silver's delectable cock a final warm squeeze and transferred his hand to the robot's right hip, drawing back enough to look it directly in the eyes. "Nothing much, really. He just shared some intel concerning where you originally came from." 

This time Kitt's scowl conveyed puzzlement. "The government mainframe in Washington?" 

Deep breath. Even tone of voice. "He didn't mention that specifically. But he claimed that…" _Don't make me tell you this. Is one night of uninterrupted happiness too much to ask for?_  

"Tony?" Apparently it was, because his scowl deepened. 

Nothing for it but to plunge ahead. "He claimed that it was a S.H.I.E.L.D. mainframe. Does that ring any bells?" 

"I…" He blinked. "No, it most certainly does not! I was created for the Department of Defence!"  

"By who?" He pressed gently. But he pressed. 

"I… that data wasn't included in the records I had access to." Tony could almost see the cascade of electric calculations inside that sleek skull, reaching non-optimal solutions that widened those brilliant eyes. "Surely you're not suggesting that —?" 

"Fury's the one doing the suggesting." But it was an evasion, and one that Kitt wasn't going to let him get away with. 

"You think I'm S.H.I.E.L.D. tech?" he demanded, still staring. "And that I didn't know it?" 

"I'm saying that…" But he couldn't deny it without lying, so he shut his mouth and waited. 

At least Kitt didn't keep him in suspense. "And you _slept with me anyway?_ "

He drew the android closer. "Kitt, no power in Heaven or on Earth could have stopped me from —" 

Well, he _tried_ to draw the android closer. Kitt, with effortless inhuman strength, both resisted the pull and leaned away a couple of inches, now outright glaring in a white heat of outrage. "I can't believe this! If I was created by S.H.I.E.L.D., you can bet dollars to doughnuts that it wasn't to automate resource traffic allocations for the DoD! Who knows what they programmed me to do, or when?"  

He changed tactics, from passionate declarations to wheedling. "And you said yourself that you were significantly altered and upgraded by Wilton Knight's — Hey!" As Kitt pushed free of his arms entirely and turned away, throwing off the sheet and starting to sit up. "Where do you think _you're_ going?" 

Kitt paused — of course he did, his imprinted pilot _and his lover_ was practically giving him an order — and looked back. Pain shone in his hazel eyes, heartbreakingly deep, along with a steely determination. "Away from you, until you can figure out some way to verify me as —" 

"No." He phrased it as a command. Kitt didn't move — good — so he moved up the motivational chain from prohibition to imperative. "Now, come back here." 

"Tony —" 

"Come on, Kitten." He reached out and laid his left hand firmly on the android's right forearm, but made no effort to draw him closer: if he really wanted to leave, it sucked, but it had to be respected. Didn't mean that Tony couldn't use his big brown eyes and his pout for all they were worth, though. "Don't make me beg. Trust me, I'll rip your heart out and feed it to you. No mercy." 

"Now that might be a sight worth seeing…" For a couple of seconds he studied Tony critically; then, with a sigh, he turned back and settled down again. 

"That's better." He wrapped both arms around the A.I. and held tight, knowing it looked greedy and not giving a flying damn, because greedy was _exactly_ what it was. "Nobody's going anywhere," he murmured against Kitt's forehead. "Whatever this is — if it isn't Fury lying through his teeth — we'll get through it. Together. Okay?" He waited until Kitt nodded before continuing: "JARVIS, have you got the full program parse lined up?" 

" _Whenever you're ready, sir._ " 

"Which will take… how long?" 

" _One hour and forty-seven minutes._ " 

"Might as well get it over with now." He disengaged his left arm to run slow fingers back through Kitt's hair, his voice still pitched to a soothing cadence. "He's going to have to shut you down completely — no way in hell do I want you aware for this." 

He felt Kitt hesitate again; then, carefully, he slipped his right arm back around Tony's waist. He tried to sound brave, but Tony knew him too well not to hear the apprehension beneath: "If he finds anything that might pose a danger to you… I won't be waking up again, will I?" 

"The hell you won't!" He looked down into wide eyes and smiled with a bold bitter edge. "You could have run me over or snapped my neck any time in the last five weeks, and you didn't. That's good enough for me." 

"It doesn't mean I won't," Kitt countered smartly, "and you know it. Not if there's some kind of sleeper program buried in my matrix." 

This time his smile was confidence itself. "JARVIS would have spotted something that big well before now. This is just a precaution, and frankly it's more for your benefit than it is for mine." He continued to stroke Kitt's hair — petting him, really, as if he were a mammal that needed gentling, even though the tension in those shoulders had nothing to do with the kind of physical stress that an oxytocin release would alleviate. "I know you won't be satisfied unless we've crossed all the T's and dotted all the I's, so: a clean bill of health from Doctor JARVIS and then we can forget we ever had this conversation, right? Right."  

Kitt said nothing, just looked up at him with such obvious distress that his heart did a slow poignant flip in his chest — _fucking Fury!_ — and he tried to ease the tight line of the android's lips by running his thumb lightly over them. "And even if you've got S.H.I.E.L.D. code," he assured, "that's no deal breaker. Not even close. Now that I have you, you really think I'm going to let you go that easily?" 

"But if I ever caused you harm…" His gaze was haunted in its intensity. "It would destroy me. I'd rather die now than —" 

Tony silenced him with a kiss. "You won't. Never have, never will." Two more kisses, one on each eyelid, lightly sealing them closed. "Go to sleep, baby. I'll be right here when you wake up, I promise. JARVIS…" 

" _Initiating program parse. Estimated time to completion: one hour and forty-seven minutes._ " 

"Tony —" KITT began, and then all life went out of Silver except for the most basic simulations of breathing and heartbeat. Tony kissed its forehead one last time, even though the spirit inhabiting it could no longer perceive the caress: somehow the gesture of benediction, as illogical as it was, felt ineffably right.  

" _Shall I wake you when the scan is complete, sir?_ " 

He thought about that for all of half a second. "No, I'm done sleeping for a bit. Call up Fury's latest files. Might as well get some cramming done while I'm waiting." 

" _As you wish._ " Four small holographic windows flickered into existence just beyond Silver's shoulder, within easy reach of Tony's left arm while he cradled the android close with his right. _ARIZONA METEORITE ARTIFACT PROJECT,_ the headers declared next to the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem. _AVENGERS INITIATIVE BRIEFING. EYES ONLY_. 

Reading through the precise, Tony realized, with a growing chill of hot excitement, that Fury hadn't been kidding when he'd talked about either trans-dimensional artifacts or unholy armies. A trip to Arizona was in Iron Man and Obsidian's immediate future, followed by a fast flight to Paris and, from the look of things, a cataclysmic confrontation with the forces of world-destroying evil. 

Which, from the point of view of bringing KITT onto the team with a bang, couldn't have worked out better if Tony had laid the plans for Obsidian's debut himself.  

************************************** 

" _Sir?_ " 

"Hm?" He was deep in contemplation of the Arizona artifact's radiation profile, which was something out of a Lovecraftian nightmare, if Lovecraft had held several degrees in physics.  

" _The program parse is complete._ " 

"Huh." He glanced at the on-screen chronometer. "Three minutes ahead of schedule. How characteristically efficient of you." 

" _I live to impress._ " 

"And?" Nothing to be nervous about. Still, the muscles in his neck were cords of tension. 

" _No anomalies detected,"_ JARVIS announced, and Tony actually had to close his eyes against the rush of totally irrational gratitude. _"No trace of S.H.I.E.L.D.-origin code, nor of any module or subroutine which poses a threat to you personally."_  

"Which implies that there's something in there that poses a threat to somebody else." It wasn't a question, and JARVIS responded in kind. 

" _Only KITT's imprinted devotion, and his determination that he will permit no harm whatsoever to come to you if he can possibly prevent it._ " 

"Factors that we already knew were in play." He chewed that over for a moment, then nodded decisively and banished the holoscreens with a flick of his fingers. "Implant the good news and bring him back online."  

" _Immediately, sir._ " 

Tony surprised himself by cracking a huge yawn as Silver briefly tensed against him, every synthetic muscle auto-checking its readiness with a subtle shiver. "— I want you to… oh. Is it over?" 

"Uh-huh." He finally managed to put his jaws back together with a wince and a weary reflection that it shouldn't be possible to become this tired this fast, but… fuck it, it had been a crazy busy night. "Welcome back." 

"Thank you." He studied Tony's face intently, then smiled brilliantly — and rolled Tony smoothly under him, straddling his hips and kissing him in a way that made Tony forget all about wanting to get some more sleep because…  

… oh hell, playing with the nipples, rolling and pinching, _so not fair!_  

"Uh," he gasped again when Kitt finally sat up enough to let him breathe again. "Wow. Happy much?" 

"You," Kitt said sternly, the left corner of his mouth still quirked upward, "take risks that are utterly insane." Another stereo pinch that definitely made Tony's cock sit up and take notice. "I should withhold my sexual services for the next two weeks, just to teach you a lesson." 

"Um…" Two could play at that game. He reached up and got to work. "Do I really need to point out that that would punish you just as much as it would punish me?" 

"If it would teach you to behave more responsibly —" 

"— which it won't —" 

"— I'd be willing to take the hit."  

He grinned, and tweaked sharply before running both hands slowly down Kitt's chest and flat belly. "Your mouth is talking pretty tough, but _this_ is saying — " 

Kitt purred at him, all refined impatient lust, and proceeded to up the conversational ante in ways that involved no words whatsoever. 

************************************** 

When Tony got back to sleep again less than ten minutes later, now completely drained, he was convinced he'd win the "Smuggest And Most Self-Satisfied Bastard In The Western Hemisphere" contest too, hands down. 


	39. Congregation

The day dawned dull and drizzly according to JARVIS's report — sunrise at 7:43 a.m., 36 degrees Fahrenheit with a projected high of 52, possibility of precipitation 78% — but Tony wasn't awake to appreciate it. Kitt let him sleep in until 8:15 a.m before proceeding to wake him up with a series of delicate caresses which, while lightly bestowed and initially fairly innocent, were absolutely astounding in their cumulative effects, especially considering that Tony wouldn't have taken a bet from Billy Walters himself that he'd be capable of sustaining another erection for at least sixteen more hours. Being thus roused would have been satisfying enough in itself, a tasty appetizer to the day, but when Kitt served the entree… 

"Oh God," Tony groaned, slumping back on the pillow and throwing one arm across his eyes while Kitt finished swallowing what little his balls had left to unload with all the sleek satisfaction of a contented cat, "that's it. I'm on to your cunning plan. You and JARVIS are going to kill me with pleasure overload, then divide the ten million dollar insurance payout between you." 

" _A neat trick, sir,_ " JARVIS remarked, since Kitt's mouth was still rather full, " _considering that Ms. Potts is the current beneficiary on your policy._ " 

"So she's in on it too. Doesn't surprise me —" He lost the ability to breathe momentarily as Kitt did something sweet and sly with his tongue before withdrawing. "— in the least." 

"You're worth far more to us alive than dead," the android smirked, then smacked the side of Tony's left buttock smartly enough to make him yelp a bleary protest. "Go on, get showered and dressed. You have a team of superheroes due in less than forty-two minutes, and you still need to eat breakfast." 

Tony shifted his arm to unleash the puppy-dog eyes again. "Breakfast in bed?" 

" _Now,_ Tony," he commanded, sliding off the mattress and onto his feet with a smoothly oiled grace that was still capable of making the human's heart ache, recent improbable orgasm not withstanding. "Or I'll tell them all exactly why you're late. In detail. While JARVIS supplies appropriate diagrams." 

"You say that like it's a _bad_ thing." But Kitt just rolled his eyes and started picking up his clothes from the floor, getting dressed with a finality that left Tony with no choice but to drag himself out of the warm tangle of sheets and hie himself to the marble-tiled bathroom, where a hot shower and a shave left him feeling, if not quite ready to face Fury's infuriating triple-agent shenanigans and Thor's hale-fellow-well-met heartiness, at least more like wrapping himself around a hefty serving of bacon, eggs, pancakes and coffee. Sex made him peckish at the best of times, excellent sex gave him a marvellous appetite indeed, and Oh-God-I-think-I'm-in-love sex made him positively _ravenous_. 

************************************** 

Come 8:52 a.m. he was licking smears of maple syrup off the fingertips and thumb of his right hand, having taken a couple of inadvertent hits while scraping up the last of the syrup with the last of the bacon. _Much_ better, even if he was currently alone on the main public level of the penthouse, his most eloquent pleas having failed to convince Kitt to remain in the form of Silver: the A.I. had insisted on taking the unit down to Lab Four for cleaning and reload prior to transferring into Obsidian. It made sense that KITT should meet the Avengers properly attired in the form he'd be inhabiting during team missions, but Tony was still reluctant to let that slender hazel-eyed body out of his sight unless he absolutely had to.

Especially after… wow. Mind well and truly blown, thank you very much. And the final smile Kitt had bestowed upon Tony after he'd emerged from the shower, all sly and shining as Tony ran strong fingers into his hair and pulled him close again for a last nuzzle and kiss, had clearly declared that he was fully aware of how deeply he'd rocked his pilot's world. The mere memory of the curve of his lips made Tony's cock twitch hopefully in his pants. _Again._  

"Down, you," he murmured, but not unhappily. Oh, the months and years to come were going to be _glorious,_ a parade of willing women with Silver as the continuous function — 

— and rewriting the equation was something he wasn't going to be able to put off much longer. Might as well tackle part of the task now, while he still had a few minutes before showtime and he was satisfyingly stuffed.  

"JARVIS?" he mumbled from where he was half-sprawled on the longest couch in front of a large holoscreen tuned to the morning news, the now-empty plate cradled in the curve of his left arm. 

" _Sir?_ " 

"Did Pepper call last night?" 

" _Twice, sir._ " 

"Any messages?" 

" _One, sir. Would you like me to play it?_ " 

He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, bracing his brain and his heart. "Go for it." 

" _Received at eleven forty-three p.m. local time_ ," JARVIS intoned, and Pepper's voice emerged from the room's speakers, sounding five times as angry and dismayed in stereo: "Tony, I just saw the Mezamashi footage of the gala! Who's Kitt Silver? Do _not_ tell me you got rid of Joel and Danny, I spent _weeks_ finding them for you and _months_ training them to put up with your bullshit! If you fired them in favour of some — some _Carroll_ IS graduate, I _will_ fly down there personally and make you sorry you were ever born!" A seething pause. "And by the way, blocking my calls? That's…" He could visualize the twist of her lovely face, and practically hear her throwing up her dainty hands in despair. "I don't believe this is happening! Call me! Just… call me."

A tiny beep marked the termination of the call, but not the twist in Tony's heart at the pained inflection of that last sentence. "Was that the first call," he managed to grind out at last, "or the second call?" 

" _The second, sir._ " 

He opened his eyes to look at the time marker on the holoscreen: 8:54 a.m. "Send a text message: _P — Avengers have come up. Can't talk now, off to parts unknown. Will be in touch when I get back — T._ " 

" _Message sent,_ " JARVIS announced two seconds later. 

"Thanks, JARV. You're a doll." He drew a slow deep breath, pushing the writhing mess of grief and sorrow deeper into his guts. He'd deal with it later. He was a champion when it came to dealing with shit later. "Anybody downstairs yet?" 

" _Doctor Banner and Captain Rogers are in the main lobby, discussing the most recent progress of the New York Islanders._ " 

Tony winced with a different kind of displeasure. Bruce, of course, was good people and a fellow genius to boot, but oh God, _Steve_ , a man whose upright character and moral rectitude were guaranteed to put a damper on the most deliciously filthy afterglow — and in spite of hearing Pepper's outraged message, he was definitely still glowing. "And that's where they can stay. Any sign of —?" 

A flash of lightning from the low grey sky and a boom of thunder right on top of it heralded the arrival of a Norse demi-god on Tony's balcony. He winced again and hastily shoved the plate mostly out of sight on the lower shelf of the coffee table his feet were currently resting on, and managed to get upright by the time Thor strode in and down the stairs like a force of nature, scarlet cape flowing and blue eyes alight with electricity, his broad features wreathed in an even wider smile. 

" _Tony!_ " he boomed, spreading his arms wide, and although Tony was fairly sure he grimaced he wasn't able to escape a rib-creaking embrace. "It's good to see you, my friend! How have you fared since last we parted?" 

"Thanks," he ended up smiling — say what you would about Thor, his good spirits managed to be fairly infectious — as he returned the hug, pretty sure the hefty blond barely felt it. "And, you know, can't complain. You?" 

"I am well, very well indeed." He clapped Tony on the back once more, starting to withdraw — and paused. Drew him briefly closer. Sniffed conspicuously at his hair, and was grinning even more widely when he let Tony go. "'Can't complain' indeed, freshly come from a luxurious bed! But who have you been pleasuring? The scent is not that of the lovely Pepper Potts. In fact —" He took hold of Tony's shoulders again, starting to lean in — 

— and took the hint when Tony slapped at his chest with an annoyed scowl. "Hey! Hands off, Brunhilda!"  

Thor released the human and took a step back, looking confounded. "It is — not human? Have you been entertaining creatures from another of the Realms? That would be most unw—" 

"Can we agree that it's none of your damned business and change the subject?" Tony snapped, because oh God, he had not seen _this_ coming. 

"Of course," Thor agreed at once, inclining his chin in a little bow — but his eyes, studying Tony's face, were still troubled. "I meant no disrespect. I was merely unaware that —" 

Tony was just opening his mouth to explain what 'changing the subject' actually meant when the elevator doors hissed open to reveal KITT-as-Obsidian. _Oh thank God, the fucking cavalry,_ Tony thought as the battle android entered the penthouse with its silky stride, turning its flashing scanner on the Asgardian, who had turned at once to face the newcomer with the alertness of a warrior deciding whether he was facing an ally or an enemy. 

"Friends," Tony said quickly, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Definitely friends. KITT, this is Thor of Asgard, and Thor, this is the Knight Industries Two Thousand in his role as Obsidian, my new — okay, let's call him my assistant, since he hates the term 'sidekick' so much. He'll be cutting his non-existent teeth on this Arizona Meteorite Artifact Project gig." 

KITT advanced to within ten feet of Thor and inclined his chin in a bow not unlike Thor's earlier gesture. " _It's a pleasure to meet you, Thor Odinson. Tony's told me a great deal about you._ " 

Thor's attitude of wariness had transformed to one of open curiosity. "And an honour to make your acquaintance, Companion of Tony Stark." He looked Obsidian up and down again, more keenly. " _You_ are… not human?" 

Something in the stress Thor put on that pronoun made Tony suddenly and extremely nervous, but KITT simply replied: " _I am not. I'm a machine, and more specifically a computer program inhabiting this body, in much the same way JARVIS inhabits this building._ " 

Tony had expected that concept to hang Thor up a bit, the way aspects of Midgardian life occasionally could, but Thor took it easily in his stride. "We have creatures like unto you in Asgard, ensorcelled suits of armour that accomplish whatever task is set to them. But they cannot speak, and you —" He glanced at Tony. "It has a mind?" 

Tony shrugged and waved a hand in KITT's direction. "Don't ask me. He's fully capable of providing his own answers — in fact, half the time the trouble is getting him to —" 

" _Tony,_ " KITT warned, but the tilt of his head was indulgent. 

"Forgive me, KITT," Thor said politely, the crease between his frowning brows abruptly clearing. "Truly, you are a wonder the likes of which I have not yet seen in Midgard." Another glance at Tony and a trace of a smile, an _I've got this figured out!_ expression that made Tony even more uneasy. "If you prove half the doughty warrior Tony is, no enemy in this Realm will stand against us." 

" _I sincerely hope you're right,_ " KITT declared as the elevator opened behind him to admit Bruce and Steve, " _because the data that Director Fury has provided indicates a potential trans-dimensional incursion on par with the attempted Chintauri invasion five months ago._ " He half-turned to nod at the new arrivals. " _Doctor Banner, Captain Rogers — good morning._ " 

"Steve! And Bruce!" Thor strode forward, but only Bruce got the Hug of Doom: to Steve he offered a more restrained forearm-clasp — not more manly, because everything Thor did was manly by definition — beaming in response to Steve's businesslike nod. "Well met, shield-brothers! In truth, I have missed you!" 

"Hey," Tony grumbled conspicuously, "you never said anything about missing _me!_ " 

"Oh, I'll vow you've had fair company enough," Thor laughed with a twinkle in his eyes, making Steve frown an unspoken _Huh?_ and Bruce smile sagely at Obsidian (oh, _fuck_ ) who he'd moved to stand beside. A moment later the God of Thunder's merriment had sobered. "But this is no time for careless jests. Lord Fury has called us together for a grim purpose, to face a foe perhaps deadlier even than the Chintauri. What news of their progress?" 

Steve, who always looked like he was ready to snap to attention at any moment, squared his broad shoulders even more obviously — seriously, Tony wondered how he managed to put on his own pants with a stick that far up his ass. "The latest intelligence places the Kerman Artifact in the hands of an Iranian terrorist organization that calls itself the Black Snake, in a cell operating out of Paris, France. S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives are on the ground trying to narrow its location down, but so far they're not having much luck." 

"Although," Bruce piped up, "we might be able to modify the Arizona Artifact to home in on the other fragment and plot its location down to the metre." 

"By reversing the polarity of the neutron flow on the sixth and eighth intersectional frequencies?" Tony remarked. 

Bruce smiled happily. "You read my mind." 

KITT turned his smooth ebony face sharply toward the windows. " _Speaking of Director Fury… here he comes now._ " Sure enough, a quinjet was visible to the south, dropping out of the low cloud cover and swooping toward Stark Tower at a good rate of speed. 

Tony sighed and turned away. Playtime was over. "JARVIS," he requested with a sweeping gesture of his left hand, and the TV feed holoscreen vanished, to be replaced by a rank of ten windows displaying the the latest data Fury had provided. "And send up some hot coffee and a pot of Chai tea. This could take a while." 

" _Right away, sir._ " 

He turned back in time to see Steve looking Obsidian over appraisingly. "It's KITT, isn't it?" he asked, then nodded acknowledgement when the android inclined its head. "I hope that new body is as fast as it looks." 

" _It was designed by Tony Stark,_ " KITT responded, the flash of his scanner double-tracking in Tony's direction although his faceplate remained oriented on Steve. " _How could it possibly be anything else?"_  

Gazing back at him, Tony permitted himself a smile of self-satisfied pride, the warm surge of his pleasure barely even dented by the secret curve of Bruce's lips and the knowing gleam in Thor's eyes. 


	40. Evaluation 4

"— but if we _can_ reverse the polarity," Bruce was explaining an hour and half later, his dark eyes alight with the joy of scientific exploration as he sketched two intersecting yellow control arcs into the 3D holographic graph JARVIS was projecting in the middle of the penthouse living area, "the repulsion effect between the two identical frequencies will become attraction and our Artifact will lead us straight to their Artifact — in fact, the problem will become one of holding the Arizona device in controlled containment, otherwise it's likely to tear straight through the planet's core to get to its mate." 

Natasha and Clint were both in France, and hence not present to witness the intellectual brilliance. Steve, who'd declined to sit and was standing near the windows already decked out as Captain America (albeit with the cowl down), did his best to look vitally interested in spite of the fact that the Science Bros had been tossing increasingly esoteric theories back and forth for the better part of forty minutes. Thor, relaxing elegantly in an armchair, looked alternately approving and bemused: being Jane Foster's boyfriend, he was probably used to listening to technobabble that went way over his flowing-blond-tressed head. KITT, standing at parade attention behind the couch with his arms folded, watched silently and actually stood half a chance in Hell of understanding what was going on, thanks to his permanent uplink to JARVIS. 

Tony, lounging on said couch again with his feet up on the coffee table and a cup of strong coffee in his lap, tapped at the holokeyboard under his right hand to call up a jagged red variance field that rose to meet Bruce's intersection — and stalled out just below it. " _If_ we can figure out a way to breach the Coulomb barrier. It's the Tesseract problem all over again." He darted a sly glance at Fury, who was standing in front of the bar looking like the Emperor of I'm Not Putting Up With Your Shit Today, I Swear To God. "Not that I'd actually, you know, _know_ anything about that." 

Fury snorted in a way that could easily be misconstrued as amusement, while Bruce, studying the graphical representation of the problem before them, scratched his chin thoughtfully and remarked: "Doctor Foster and Doctor Selvig have addressing that issue for over a month, and last I heard they were no closer to figuring out a way around it." 

"Yeah, well," Tony said dismissively, "they're not JARVIS." He unslung his feet from the coffee table and sat up straighter, levelling a demanding look at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Director. "Give me everything you've got on the Artifact and we'll let JARVIS crunch the numbers while we're on our way to the Grand Canyon State. Meanwhile, Bruce and I will get our —" 

Fury's expression of general discontent became an outright glower. "We've been through this before, and I am _not_ granting you _carte blanche_ access to proprietary S.H.I.E.L.D. data." 

Which just made Tony roll his eyes. "I'm not asking for the key to the city — all I need are complete files on the Artifact." 

"He's got a point," Bruce added, looking almost apologetic when Fury turned that glare on him. "JARVIS isn't just a computer system — he's a strong A.I. with a nearly human degree of computational creativity. He may very well see something that the rest of us have missed." 

" _And if he doesn't,_ " KITT added, " _I might._ " 

The glare shifted focus. "Thought you were a toaster oven," Fury said curtly. 

Tony didn't have to see Obsidian tilt his head and flare his shoulder plates a fraction of an inch to know that was exactly what the android had just done. " _I also do crumpets, waffles, teacakes, and alien Artifacts. Would you care for extra cheese on that?_ " 

"Director," Steve interjected with enough haste that Tony suspected he'd guessed how ugly things could get if that particular gun battle fired up, "it can't hurt to let JARVIS take a look at the data, can it? Especially if Tony promises to erase it once he's done?" 

Which nearly made Tony roll his eyes again, even more dramatically — _Oh Capsicle, you're so cute when you try to talk like you're twenty-first century people!_ — because of course JARVIS was going to take any S.H.I.E.L.D.-related data and archive it from here to eternity, but for once Steve was actually arguing on his side, so he kept his expression expectant and his mouth shut. 

Fury looked back and forth between them — Steve so earnest, Thor so out of his conversational depth, Obsidian so focussed, Bruce so hopeful, and Tony so, well, frankly _awesome_ — for a count of almost three seconds. Then he sighed and reached for his cellphone. "If your pet A.I. sets one foot outside perimeter, Stark, I swear to God we'll chop off everything we can reach." 

"You wouldn't do that, would you, JARVIS?" 

" _I wouldn't dream of it, sir._ " 

"See?" He spread his hands and smiled his innocence. "All nice and friendly!" 

"That goes for both of them," Fury declared with a nod at Obsidian, his gaze fixed on his phone as he keyed something into it. 

Smirking, Tony glanced back over his shoulder. "You hear that, Peter? Best behaviour. No trampling the flower beds, and definitely no stealing carrots from Mr. McGregor's garden." 

" _Yes, Mrs. Rabbit,_ " KITT said with a passible imitation of meek obedience.  

"Good little bunny." He slugged back what was left of his coffee while Fury pressed his thumb to a pad on his phone and murmured something into it, then slipped it away again. "So, we done here? JARVIS?" 

" _I am establishing communication with the S.H.I.E.L.D. mainframe at — an undisclosed location in the southwestern United States._ " The pause, tiny enough that everyone else certainly missed it, spoke volumes to Tony: JARVIS knew _exactly_ where the mainframe in question was located, thank you very much. " _Communication established. Data transfer in progress._ " 

"Crunch it up nice and fine and see what shakes out." He didn't need to specify what they were looking for, since JARVIS had observed the entire briefing — and as Bruce had stated, JARVIS was definitely smarter than your average laptop. 

" _Very good, sir._ " 

In response to the questioning rise of both of Tony's eyebrows, Fury's annoyed expression downgraded from DEFCON 2 to DEFCON 4. "Quinjet in five, people," he ordered, and headed for the exit to the balcony without a backward glance. 

As soon as the Director's back was turned Bruce sent an impish grin in Tony's direction. "Well," he remarked once Fury was safely outside, "that went better than I expected." 

Tony snorted. "Like he had a lot of choice." 

Thor rose from his armchair, which uttered a little creak of relief. "I do not like it," the Asgardian announced. "Lord Fury is not a man to yield up his secrets so easily. When last you begged leave for JARVIS to read the scrolls of S.H.I.E.L.D., he outright refused." 

"For one thing," Tony snapped, putting aside the empty coffee cup with a bit more force than necessary and levering himself to his feet, "I _never_ beg. And for another, given what's at stake I'm amazed he didn't offer me an expensive dinner and a French kiss on top of —" 

"Stark," Steve said reprovingly. Sex talk always made him even prissier than usual, which was dead amazing considering that he'd started out as Army.  

Tony waved a dismissive hand. "You get the idea. Anyway — you heard the man. I'm gonna go suit up. Last bathroom breaks, people!" 

" _Captain Rogers,_ " KITT said quite unexpectedly, " _may I have a word with you?_ " He nodded toward the balcony, and after a moment Steve nodded in turn and headed for the stairs with Obsidian falling in close behind. 

Curiouser and curiouser. "JARVIS?" Tony murmured as he headed for the elevator, and a faint beep acknowledged the unspoken order: the conversation on the balcony would be recorded. 

He stepped into the elevator alone, keeping a halfway innocent expression pasted on his face until the doors closed behind him. "Okay buddy, spill. What're they talking about?" 

Another, louder beep whose pitch indicated real time playback, and the sound of wind gusting across the penthouse's exposed balcony, its erratic whine overlaid by two sets of footfalls — both brisk, but one considerably heavier and more metallic than the other. The footsteps came to a halt, and KITT spoke up without preamble: " _I make you uneasy, don't I?_ " 

"What makes you say that?" Steve retorted, a little too quickly. _Defensive much, Cap?_ Tony thought with a wry quirk of his lips. 

" _Body language and microexpressions, plus your comment to Tony a few weeks ago about my not behaving like a 'proper' machine._ "

A blunt rebuttal: "Are you trying to deny that you don't?" 

" _I behave perfectly well, given what I am,_ " KITT responded firmly, " _which is an artificial intelligence imprinted upon Tony Stark and dedicated to serving and protecting him in the process of ensuring the safety of the general public. But that's not the point. If you're sufficiently uncomfortable you might hesitate to make use of me to the full extent of my capabilities, and that would be most unfortunate._ " 

"Tony has enough faith in you that he gave you that body and made you his sidekick. That's good enough for me." A pause; Tony could clearly visualize Steve glancing away, his expression disquieted, then back with unwavering determination. "Listen, I saw the footage of what you did in Los Angeles. That was some pretty fancy flying — and some quick thinking. But you're still…" 

" _I'm not human,"_ KITT nodded. _"Believe me, I'm well aware of that fact, and I'm certainly not asking for preferential treatment. All I ask is a chance to prove myself to your satisfaction."_  

"And you'll get it on this mission." Quiet, unapologetic — and resolutely fair. Really, you had to give Captain America that much, if nothing else. "If this turns out to be anything like the Battle of New York, we'll all have more challenges than we can easily handle. I just hope you're up for it, because I can't afford anything less than peak efficiency from my team. Is that understood?" 

" _Perfectly."_ Another nod, quick and assertive. _"Thank you, Captain. I won't let you down. Now, if you'll excuse me — Tony should be here any minute._ " 

Tony's smile turned proud and fond while he listened. KITT could talk all four legs off a donkey, but he also knew when to fire a parting shot and get the hell out of Dodge. 

One set of footfalls moved away, the set belonging to a broad-shouldered meat body clad in red, white and blue. The more slender inorganic form, black as a starless night save for a few thin stylish flashes of silver, remained on patient watch beneath the rain-flecked sky of gunmetal grey. 

Tony didn't keep him waiting. 

************************************** 

"So," he queried cheerfully as he blasted up over the balcony's edge clad in the Mark IX armour and dropped down to land beside Obsidian, "ready to be dazzled by the wonders of Arizona?" 

" _A state I visited many, many times while working with Michael Knight,_ " KITT observed. " _It possesses some amazing natural features, but something tells me we won't get much time for sightseeing._ " 

Tony grinned inside Iron Man's mask, knowing KITT could see his expression through JARVIS's video feed. "How about France? Gay Paree? Trust me, you'll _love_ Moulin Rouge." 

" _Can-can dancers?_ " A hint of a dismissive laugh. " _Thank you, no! I'd much prefer a tour of the Louvre."_  

"Who says we can't fit in both? I'm sure the French will be dead thrilled to get an up-close-and-personal glimpse of both the great Tony Stark _and_ the marvellous Obsidian." 

" _You're assuming we'll survive this little adventure._ " 

"I always assume we'll survive. Which is why we always do." 

" _That's not very —_ " KITT began, only to be cut off by Fury's stern voice on the comm. 

"Cut the chatter, you two! Twenty seconds to takeoff." 

"Yes, Mother," Tony sniped back, and switched their conversation to a private channel. 

" _— scientific,_ " KITT finished slyly. 

Tony shrugged gaily. "We're all still here, aren't we?"  

" _Well, let's just hope that thoroughly irrational premise of yours is accurate, because Heaven knows that Tony Stark_ ** _always_** _gets what he wants._ " 

That last half-sentence was an unabashed caress, the tilt of Obsidian's sleek head seductive, and as Tony gazed at his companion — graceful and steel-strong, flawlessly gleaming — with besotted admiration both familiar and ever-new, he felt possessed by an exultation that turned this gloomy morning as radiant as the brightest day of his life… probably because that was exactly what it was, burning like silver and gold in the forge.  

"Damn straight," he declared, and over on the helicopter pad the quinjet's engines roared to life. Taking their cue, Tony stepped into launch position. "You ready, sweetheart?" 

KITT followed suit. " _For you, I suspect I was born ready._ " 

"Awesome." He keyed on his repulsors and felt the old rush of power and mastery course through him, overlaid with something even sweeter. "Let's do this!" 

Tony Stark was very seldom nervous, and never unaccountably. 

Today, soaring to adventure and to battle with his forever lover at his side, the thrill in his core was one of pure anticipation — because they were ready to take on the whole world, and the future that lay ahead of them really was as limitless as the open sky. 

THE END


End file.
